Lords of Warcraft
by JIMMYJAMSTER728
Summary: When Eight warriors of Azeroth are flung through an anomaly during their assault on the Titan City of Ulduar they are transported to another world in the Twisted Nether - Middle Earth - Separated and in unfamiliar territory they must reunite and stop the dark lord Sauron from claiming the ring of power and try to return back to Azeroth. Enjoy the Read, R&R please.
1. Prelude: The Horde

**Hello to all the readers out there, Names Jimmy, but you can call me Jim, but I prefer Jimmy, so call me Jimmy, now then I would like to introduce you to my first story for Fanfiction, I have had this story in my mind for the past few weeks now and only recently have I been able to work up the courage (and learn how to write a proper sentence) to post my work for all to Enjoy.**

**I drew my inspiration from many different Writers, such as BahumutReishiki, Ursaker, Jarl of the North just to name a few.**

**But it was NightIncarnate that gave me true Inspiration for this Story with one of her own, Eternal Undeath, a marvelous story and one that deserves to be read.**

**And now I leave you to your reading.**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**_The Fellowship of the Ring_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Two Towers_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Return of the King_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

* * *

**Prologue 01: The Death Knight, The Shaman, The Hunter and the Warlock**

**The Storm Peaks, Cliffs above the Terrance of the Makers, Iron Bulwark Base Camp**

The mountains of the Storm Peaks were large and numerous, as were it many diverse inhabitants, one group in particular were the resident of the fabled Titan city of Ulduar, the Armies of Iron. Creatures composed purely of metal, their skin and their personalities were that of hard steel, and they made for powerful enemies. Ever since the Horde and Alliance had set foot on Northrend they have been a proverbial thorn in their sides, their war against the Lich King had taken priority over these Iron warriors as it did over the Nexus War's, and because of that only a few warriors have been selected to take part in a surgical strike against their base of operations.

High Shaman Mairne Ragetotem stood at the edge of cliff that overlooked the Terrance of the makers, he marveled at the fine architecture of the buildings that were as large and sturdy as the mountain he stood on, it was here that the Iron Bulwark as they were officially called were situated. Waiting patiently for the order to attack the cursed city of Ulduar and end the threat of the Old God Yogg'Saron once and for all, they had spent nearly a week on the precipice of the mountain and it was starting to get to the warriors, the Iron Bulwark was created to prevent the Armies of Iron from spreading out from the Storm Peaks and causing trouble for the Warsong Offensive and Forsaken's Hand of Vengeance. Mairne was given the duty of leading a small group of warriors into the heart of the Titan city and remove any and all threats present within, but he would not be going alone, he was to ally himself with the Alliances forces that would be joining them in the assault.

He at first resented the idea of allowing either of their forces to fight with one another; he believed that the tension between the two forces would cause a catastrophe that would result in the utter failure of the assault. Only several months ago did both forces assault the Undercity to remove both the former High Apothecary Putress and Major-Domo of the Undercity Varimathras, the instigators between the massacre at the Wrathgate and the now tense cold war between the Horde and Alliance, even after both forces accomplished their missions a new battle broke out between the two former allies. Had it not been for the intervention of the Mage Jaina Proudmoore, the entire situation would have escalated beyond control, the only reason the two forces haven't declared war on one another is because of their current war against the Lich King. But he could not sway the High Overlords decision about fighting along with the Alliance, the situation between the two was still very fragile if anything were to go wrong the situation between the two faction could worsen. He may see the wisdom in the decision to have them fight alongside the Alliance, to try and improve their relations with one another was not necessarily a bad thing, but he didn't think his subordinates would see it as well as he did, nor would the Alliance.

"By the twisted nether its damn cold out here, do you mind sitting down so I can warm myself with those fire pits on your shoulder." Marine signed as he turned to the small Blood elf that stood behind him, she wore elegant yet unsettling robes that while appeared to be masterfully crafted by someone with a dark and warped personality, after all, what kind of warlock wouldn't ware something along those lines.

"Adria, my armor is not something you can use to keep warn, now please leave me be, I'm waiting for someone." replied Mairne, the armor he wears is known as the Worldbreaker's Garb, a finely craft set of shamanistic armor created for him to help in his battles against the forces of Iron, his shoulder guard were actually large metal pauldrons that house elemental fire spirits in which he can call upon at a moment notice, he had used them many times before to actually melt his enemies into nothing more than puddles of liquid metal. Since he arrived in the mountainous wastes the elf Adria has not ceased in irritating him about how his shoulder pads are the only thing preventing him from complaining along with everyone else about the cold, but he would never admit to it, even if it was partially true.

"Come on Mairne, I'm cold, pretty please" she begged, putting her hands together and looking up at him with her glowing green eyes like some sort of demon possess puppy dog. He had to admit though she was good company, out of all the warriors here she was someone who was more brain that brawn, and Mairne was thankful he had someone he could talk to, even though she was slightly childish and had the habit of pulling the odd prank or two on the camps soldiers and him included.

"Why is it that you continue to irritate me on trivial matters?" asked Mairne, giving the blood elf a sidelong glance.

"Mairne, I'm bored okay, I've been up here for a week and the only person who has some brains is clearly you, I would like to at least have a conversation with someone that didn't involve 'where they got that scar' or 'how about the time I killed a proto-drake' or 'do you ever wonder what elf meat taste like'."

He could tell that she was talking about the orcs around the camp talking about their stories to pass the time, but eating an elf, where did she get that from?

"Stop buggin' de old bull elf." came the sudden voice above them, hanging there in the tree was a troll in reddish brown battle armour, he leapt down from the tree and landed in front of the young blood elf and stared at her "Or I'll eat yah, you know I've be wonderin' what elf taste like"

Adria backed up slowly from the troll; she knew he wasn't going to eat her; she just didn't like it when he got in her personal space. As she turned around and left the troll tilted his head to the side and gave a lecherous look at the elf as she walked away, simply put: he was staring at her arse, before giving off a similar comment when she was at earshot.

"Wouldn't mind havin' a taste of dat rump" Mairne turned and glared at the troll, who had only now turned to speak with the Shaman, ignoring the shamans harsh glare he replayed the message "I have a message from the Dwarf"

"What is the message, Zul'kal?" asked Mairne, his eyes never leaving the trolls

"The Dwarf has set up de Base camp, and de mage's are shieldin' it from di enemy, we can leave at any time"

"Good" said Marine, removing his harsh glare with a neutral one as he turned towards the camp; fifty soldiers sit in the camp and all of their lives where in his hands. Though most of these Orcs would revel to die in a glorious battle, but he thought otherwise, they were some of the greatest the horde has to offer and to lose them all would be a blow they would never fully recover from. He lost many warriors during his time in Outland and at the Wrathgate, he would make sure no more lives are lost unnecessarily. "We depart in an hour; get the Wyverns ready, we ride to Ulduar"

Zul'kal nodded and turned to leave, but Mairne grabbed hold of his arms and stopped him; the troll turned to the shaman and looked at him curiously.

"Yes Mairne" he asked

"I need you to deliver a message for me" said Mairne, his voice low and serious.

* * *

Meanwhile Adria walked her way back towards the camp, she felt those trolls eye on her backside and narrowed her eyes in annoyance, still freezing and having nowhere to go since her tent had been blown away the night before. She hated it here, she was the only elf in the whole camp and it was one of the most uncomfortable times in her life, it was cold, she was hungry and she lost her bag to that troll's pet tiger. The only reason she was here was because they needed a magi to shield their camp from the Iron army, other than that there was no point in her being there, and the company was less than satisfactory in her opinion. The only people around her were a bunch of muscle head, blood thirsty, idiots that wouldn't know the meaning of chivalry if it was carved on the back of their shield, well Marine was the exception, but he was more or less a solitary person.

"Hey Warlock" came the indignant cry from a Orc soldier, he was sitting around a burnt out camp fire with three other Orcs, they had a large piece of meat on a rotary that was frozen solid "Do you mind"

Adria narrowed her eyes once again and approached the campfire and looked down the sitting orcs and said with a smile on her face and an innocent voice "Of course not, let me help you with that"

She pointed her staff at the fire pit and then a torrent of flames shot out from her staff, the fire burnt far beyond the rocks that was set up to contain the fire and forced to orcs to crawl away the first as it lurched towards them. When she stopped the rocks were smouldering black and the meat was similarly cooked, while several flames still burned on the well cooked meat, she brought a finger to her chin and tilted her head to the side.

"I think I over did it" she said, her voice innocent "Oh well, I hope you like you meat well cooked"

As she walked away she could hear the cries of the orcs as they yell curses at the elf and to their evening mean which was now as delicious as charcoal, she smiled devilishly at her little prank and went on her merry little way. She always enjoyed playing pranks on people, even though she is a warlock she was a lot more nicer than what most people think they are, just because she's a Warlock doesn't mean she's going to try and rip you soul our and sell it to a demon and make a contract with them. She pushed those negative thoughts from her mind, but there was a problem with that, she remembered she was on top of a snow covered mountain and it was freezing.

"I hate this place" she muttered to herself, before she continued her search for somewhere warm to stay.

"Attention, all soldiers are to pack up camp and prepare to depart" Adria stopped to listen as the Orc called out across the camp "We are heading for Ulduar"

The Orcs howled in unison at the news, for the last week they had done nothing but stay up in the damn mountains waiting for someone to give them orders and now that they had them they get to go kill something now, she sighed in relief she hated it up here.

"Hopefully Ulduar is a little warmer that this place" she said, mostly to herself that to the roaring warriors around her.

* * *

**Icecrown, the Shadow Vault**

A single death knight initiate slowly walked through the dreaded spire that was the Shadow Vault, recently taken by the Knights of the Ebon Blade and made into their personnel fortress; he was to deliver a message to one of his commanding officers. As he approached him the initiate became slightly hesitant about taking another step, he had heard many rumours about him, one being he actually ripped off a blue drakes wind with his bare hands and another that he killed Baron Rivendare, one of the Four Horsemen of Naxxramas singlehandedly. He was considered a champion amongst the Ebon Blade but he was also known for his fury, he had once thrown an initiate from Acherus for no other reason than he was just standing there and possibly because he was human, and since he was human, mostly anyway, he may not be the best person to deliver a message about him having to leave Icecrown.

He may be dead right now but he didn't want to die again, he could simply turn away and leave but he would then have to face the wrath of Duke Lankral, he struggled to make up his mind until a strong voice tore him out of his thoughts.

"What do you want Initiate?" the voice was hard and powerful, even without the metallic and double timbre that accompanied the voice of all death knights. Turning the initiate was looked up at the man he had deliver the massage to, he towered over the Death Knight Initiate at a staggering nine and a half foot tall orc, the famous Death Knight Varro Dreadbringer, also known as the 'Dragons Rage', a title given to him for his anger was considered on par with that of a dragon.

"I-I-I have a m-message s-s-sir" said the Initiate his word harder to understand with the supernatural echo that accompanied his voice.

"Then speak it" said the Orc, his voice may have sounded angry, but as a matter of fact he was actually calm for the moment.

"You have been called to the Storm Peaks; you are to join in the assault of Ulduar" Varro mused on this news for a moment before he simply replied.

"No" was all the Death Knight said before turning on his feet and start walking away, the Initiate was flabbergasted to say the least, he had expected him to follow the orders without question not just up an ignore it.

"But… but sir, the orders were clear, you have to go to Ulduar" said the initiate, which caused the Orc to stop in his tracks and turn to face the initiate before bending forward to look him straight in the eye.

"I have to?" snarled the Orc, not as a question but more as repeating the words that were said by the initiate, causing the initiate to sweat nervously, which allowed small icy droplets to form on his forehead. Their faces were less than an inch apart; the initiate could see the sharp and jagged teeth of the massive Orc as he bared his teeth in barely contained anger.

"Y-y-y-ye-yes sir" said the Initiate; his life was hanging on by a thread, if he didn't think of something quick he was going to be literally ripped to shreds by a lunatic twice his size.

"Tell me, who has the nerve to tell me where I have to go" said the Orc, resting his hand on the hit of his massive great sword known as Armageddon, which he took from the vault of Naxxramas after the defeat of Kel'Thuzad. The initiate was panicking now.

"Mairne Ragetotem" squeaked the initiate; the Orc looked at the initiate for a moment before replying and edging the sword from his back.

"Why should I give a damn about that Bull" replied the Orc, his voice growing in irritation

"He said…" started the initiate; he saw the Orc nearly had the ten foot blade off his back "you owe him" the Orc stopped in his tracks; Varro lowered his head and considered the words. He narrowed his eyes as if searching through the imaginary line of the contract of debt he owed to the shaman, before he growled and closed his eyes, he raised his head up and put his sword back in it place on his back. The initiate visibly relaxed knowing he wasn't going to be cleaved in half, although knowing Varro's reputation he could still do so in less traditional ways, and the orc looked down at the initiate.

"Fine, I will depart immediately" Varro said, pushing past the initiate and towards the entrance of the vault, the initiate let out a pent up breath and sagged forward before letting out a small chuckle at his close brush with death.

"Initiate" a voice from the doorway, the voice was low and unnaturally calm, it was Varro's, and he was standing near the entrance of the vault with his back to the initiate. Then he abruptly turned around a bolt of dark energy shot out of the Orcs hand and towards the initiate, he felt the dark energy wrap around his chest and pull him forward, he felt the cold air brush past his face and could hear his own screams echo through the entire vault. He suddenly stopped and he felt the air in his lung rush out as he crashed into what could only be described as a metal wall, raising his head he looked into the cold blue eyes of Varro Dreadbringer, who lifted him off the ground effortlessly and held the poor initiate level with his face.

"No one, least of all a little human, order me around!" shouted Varro, before throwing the poor initiate out the door way and across the terrace and past bewildered onlookers, and right towards an abomination.

Rana was a still only an initiate of the Ebon blade and because of that she was stuck on guard duty, she had to along with several others hold back the scourge forces from assaulting the vault, she didn't mind that but the fact that she had been fighting for dear life for the past ten minutes against an abomination was starting to change her mood. She rushed under its massive cleaver, and cut along the side of its heavily stitched stomach, blood, organs and other assorted bodily objects fell from the gaping wound. But the abomination was completely un-affected by the strike, it turned its head to the Death Knight that injured it and shouted "you mean! Me crush you, meanie!"

Rana dodged to the side as the cleaver came down at her, she rolled back to her feet and prepared to counter, but her eyes widened when she saw the creature massive arm coming towards her. It slammed into her stomach and she was knocked off, she flew a few feet before hitting into the stone steps of the Shadow Vaults terrace, she looked for her rune blade which was lying just out of arms reach. She looked up to see the hulking abomination looming over her with a wicked smile on his face, she knew she was dead, she was disappointed that she was going to die to a walking flesh bag with no more intelligence than a kobold. But as it raised its cleaver in the air as loud height pitched screaming could be heard, there was a momentary stop in the fighting between the scourge and the Death Knights as they tried to identify what it was they were hearing.

Then out of nowhere an object comes flying at the abomination and ploughs its way through its chest, taking most of its vital organs and not-so-vital organs and skidding along the ground building up snow as it skidded before coming to an abrupt stop ten metres later. A pair of legs could be seen from the large snow pile that covered the man, they were twitching slightly showing that he was still alive, the onlookers were completely flabbergasted as to what just happened. Then the two opposing forces simply looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders, and wet at each other like nothing had happened. Rana looked up to the abomination that was still standing over her and saw it had a look of complete confusion on its face. As if it didn't know what to do now that most of its major organs were gone, Rana thought for a moment before saying.

"Uh, you fall down now" she said, a moment later the creatures face changed from one of puzzlement to that of someone who's had an epiphany, before it fell backward and died. Quickly getting to her feet and retrieving her Rune Blade she turned to the pile of snow with the pair of leg sticking out of them and wondered, 'where the hell did he come from', she turned around back to the Shadow Vault and saw a large frost wyrm flying off the to the east.

* * *

**Fifteen Miles East of the Iron Bulwark Base Camp, Cliffs overlooking the Terrace of the Makers**

Zul'kal had been running from peak to peak for the last hour, his objective was to deliver the High Shamans message to his compatriot in the Alliance's camp; he was keeping himself low trying to avoid the many storm reaver's that scout out the perimeter around Ulduar. If he was found by them he was likely going to be killed, he may be a skilled hunter but against wind elementals the fight would be difficult if not impossible, his only choice was to sneak his way across the mountains and search for the alliances camp.

Upon hearing the sound of churning wind and lightning he immediately ducked behind a small crevice, it was big enough to just conceal his limber form, and listened as a lighting revenant passed by; it's condensed wind body only visible because of the beautiful glowing core that sat in the center of its chest shooting sparks of electricity over its silver armour and through the air around it. It stopped momentarily over the area when Zul'kal had been crawling, looking for any hostiles that would invade the terrace, before returning back on its course.

Rising slowly he examined his surroundings, the revenant was gone and his accuse senses couldn't detect any more activity; he stood up and stretched his shoulders before continuing on his way. Running to the side of the mountain he leapt down the steep slope, his armored boots sparking against the hard stone of the mountain as he slid, he reached a small ledge and when his feet made contact he rolled to decrease his momentum. Coming to a stop he observed his surroundings, he knew the alliance camp was nearby he had learned through small bit of Intel that the camp was located on a large cliff on the other side of the mountain to the terrace, he knew that the Alliance magi would put up wards to shield the camp from the revenants and any other hostiles. As he closed his eyes and allowed his sense to discern where the camp may be, as a hunter he learned from a young age how to track prey with his own senses and when he grew older how to align his senses with that of the many animals he hunts. His eyes shot open and like a hawk he scanned the cliffs searching for his target, his eyes darted from one location to another searching for any abnormality that did not belong in the natural world, then he noticed a small shiver along the side of the cliff, a magic barrier he deduced. Concentrating closer on the barrier he could glimpse slightly past the barrier and into the camp, he saw several large and small tents dot the cliffs surface, he counted forty seven guards patrolling in groups around the camp, memorizing their patrol pattern he committed it to memory and now planned his infiltration.

He searched for a way to the camp and saw a small slope, he unfocused his eyes and turned to the slope, it was a few metres away from his position, getting into a crouching stance with his hand placed palms down on the ground in front of him he prepared to jump. Calling on another aspect of the beast inside of him, where he used the eyes of a hawk to search for the target he would use the speed of a cheetah to reach it, he tightened his muscles and took off, his speed as fast as a cheetah in its prime he rushed across the ledge before leaping towards the slope. He cleared the eight metre gap easily and slid down the side of the slope as quietly as it allowed him. As he approached the barrier he prepared to find cover as soon as he hit solid ground, he braced himself; as soon as he pasted the magical barrier that shielded the camp to those on the outside world he quickly scanned the area below for a hiding spot. Identifying a stack of crates not too far from where he would land, just large enough to hide him from the patrols, he landed with a small thud and rolled to prevent injury.

He rushed towards a nearby stack of crates and hid himself from a small patrol of soldiers, he waited for them to pass before sticking his head out to observe the camp, he observed the current position of the patrols and calculated the perfect time to move, seeing the perfect moment to move he broke away from his hiding spot and rushed to the side of one the tents, avoiding another patrol by only a moment. Moving quickly he rushed from point to point avoiding the guards and remaining unseen, his target was only a few metres away, the large tent at the far end of the camp, he moved out from behind a small cart and planned to rush to his next spot and from there to his destination. But when an unaccounted for patrol came around the corner he was forced to duck into the closest test, he leapt through and rolled to lessen the noise so he wouldn't be heard, he waited and heard as the clunking of their armour as they passed and didn't stop. He breathed a sigh of relief when their clattering armour slowly died off in the distance, he raised himself slowly and turned to take in his surroundings, as he turned he came face to face with a human women, half naked.

For the next ten second there was nothing but them silently staring at one another, wondering what was going on, then the woman tried to reach for the knife that was on the table, but Zul'kal grabbed her hand and nicked her on the side of the arm with his dagger. He twisted around her and twisted her into an arm lock and covered her mouth; she struggled for a moment before her movements started to become more sluggish and lax, slowly the sleeping poison took effect. She collapsed in his arms he held her there for a moment to make sure the sleeping agent had taken effect, when he was satisfied he dragged her over to her cot and laid her down, he didn't come here to kill anyone he had to deliver a message. Poking his head out the entryway drapes he scanned the area for any patrols, he rushed to the point he intended to before he was detoured, he skidded behind a weapons rack as a patrol passed by, completely unaware of his presence.

Looking to the tent he had just exited he knew he had only a few minutes before she would make up, the dagger was meant to stab the victim not nick them, he had to get to the commander of the camp quickly or the woman would raise the alarm. He turned to look for any patrols and saw none; he slowly moved around the rack and took one last look around to make sure he was safe to move, seeing as the coast was clear he rushed over to the tent. He had nowhere to hide now he had to enter the tent, he moved around towards the entrance but a patrol was moving in the opposite direction he was going, he slowly backpedalled and looked for a place to lay low, but another patrol was coming around the other side of the tent. He was trapped with nowhere to hide or run, 'damn it' he thought.

As the two patrols made their way around the tent they were complaining about the cold and wondering when they would be packing up and leaving, as they peered down the side of the command tent they saw another patrol looking right at them, waving at them in reply, in which they replied in kind.

"Zul'kal you lucky bastard" he said on his own behalf, the troll was currently sitting at the top of the command tent, right near the small opening that allowed him to peer inside and see the camps commander along with four other officers speaking to one another. For a few minutes they spoke before the officers left the commander alone, this was his chance; quietly he leapt through the hole and landed just as he had entered.

"You security is very bad" said Zul'kal mockingly, crossing his arms over his chest "I can point out a few places where you went wrong, if you want"

"You, what do you want troll?" said Tyresa calmly, she was more irritated that he was there than worried that a Troll had just snuck through her camp and entered her command tent, she spared him only a small glance before she returned to the map on the centre of the table. Zul'kal walked up to the side of the Paladin and pulled out a small envelope.

"I have a message for you"


	2. Prelude: The Alliance

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**_The Fellowship of the Ring_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Two Towers_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Return of the King_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

* * *

**Prologue 02: The Paladin, the Mage, the Druid and the Priest**

Tyresea peered across the massive circular rooftop that was the Temple of Order, the former domain of the Kepper Tyr, she marvelled at the fine craftsmanship that went into the design of the stone below her feet and that of the pillars that supported the massive stone ring above. She peered down to the terrace of the Makers to watch as the forces of Thorim battle against the armies of Iron across the city, warriors of stone and steel clashing against one another in savage melee; it was something akin to watching two separate yet related species fighting against each other over the mere difference in their physical makeup.

She had come here on request from an old acquaintance of here's, ones she had not spoken to in many months, not since the battle of the undercity had they seen each other, and it was longer still since they last spoke. She walked over to her Griffon and stroked its feathered head, musing on why she had been called here, her mount whirr as its master armoured glove moved through its large feathers.

* * *

One Hour Ago

* * *

"_I hav'a message for ya"_

_Tyresa turned to the troll and looked at the letter it held out, a small wax seal held the letter shut to prevent anyone from reading it; she reached out for it and examined the note for a moment. Breaking the wax seal she opened the letter and read the contents quickly, as she reached the end of the letter her eye remained fixed on the spot where the name was signed, she turned to the troll and asked._

"_Do you know about the contents of this letter?"_

"_No" was the troll's only response, nodding she looked back to the letter once more before throwing it into one of the room pyres. "Is he need'in a response?"_

"_No, I thank you for delivering the letter" she said, her voice dispassionate and plain considering she showed gratitude to the courier, before turning to troll fully and crossing her arms across her chest and continuing "Now get out of my camp before I raise the guards and have them kill you"_

"_Geez ye be worse than da shaman" replied the troll, rushing over to the exit and peeking his head out to check if the coast was clear before running out completely. Tyresa looked at the entryway for a moment after the troll left before returning her gaze to the map of the Storm Peaks, her gaze focusing on the Temple of Order which was situated in the northern most reaches of the Terrace of the makers._

"_Why do you want to meet with me Shaman, what would you want with me?" she murmured to herself, she could make it there in less than an hour but what reason would she have for going there, her forces were not meant to actively engage the Iron forces. Her orders where to watched the area and if the enemy make any major movement to report it immediately, the other reason was also another problem, she wasn't effectively in command of the outpost, she was only here to set up the camp and help the Frostborne Dwarves until she was transferred back to Icecrown. So why was he sending a message to her asking her to meet with him about the assault on Ulduar?_

* * *

Present

* * *

Tyresa was drawn from her thoughts when the sound of flapping wings caught her attention, turning on her heels she took on a defensive stance and scanned the air for the source of the noise, as soon as she caught sight of it she visibly relaxed, it was the Tauren Shaman Mairne Ragetotem. He landed on the edge of the temple and dismounted off his Manticore, he whispered into its ear and it shook its head in reply, Marine turned to the Paladin and bowed.

"It is good to see you again Marshal" he raised himself to his full height and looked down the armour cladded woman in front of him "It has been many months since we have spoken"

"That it has High Shaman" replied Tyresa with a courteous smile, she and the Tauren had a mutually cooperative relationship, they knew each other during the war in outland, and they met many times across the shattered world of Draenor. Over that time they developed a repour with one another and it led to both factions being able to work side by side on many difficult campaigns, including the Battle at Quel'danas and the eventual Battle for the Sunwell. In which both took part in, because of their past dealing with one another they put their differences aside when it came to matter of urgency that threatened both factions, but when the incident at the Wrathgate occurred those past connections were forgotten and old hatred resurfaces.

"Why have you called me here" she asked, folding her hands across her chest and tilting her head forward, expecting an answer rather than asking for it.

"As was said in the letter, I need to speak with you about the upcoming assault on the city of Ulduar" replied the Shaman

"Mairne, I have no active role in the upcoming attack, what is it that you expect me to do?" she asked, dropping her expectant tone with a more approachable one.

"Because of recent events in the last few months there has been a disruption in the peaceful balance that has formed between the Horde and Alliance" said Marine, both he and the Paladin lowered their heads a little at the event that was implied "and because of that the trust between our two peoples have evaporated and old hatreds are resurfacing"

"I can understand where you coming from Mairne, but please get to the point" replied Tyresa

"I would like to request that you take the place of the commander of the Assault on Ulduar" responded the Tauren, Tyresa head shot up to the Shaman in shock at such a request.

"You want me to lead the assault?" she asked, confused by Mairnes bold request.

"Yes, if I am to be working with a commander in the upcoming battle, I want to make sure we can see eye to eye on matters of importance, I don't want our forces to be separated down the middle because of animosity between out two factions"

"I see your point, but Mairne I'm not in a position to take command of a major operation like this without going through official channels, I don't even know who I'm supposed to be usurping"

"The commander's name is Joana Lightlance" then Tyresa's eyes lit up at the recollection of the name

"Joana Lightlance, are you sure?" asked Tyresa in which the Shaman nodded, Tyresa lowered her head and shook it lightly, she then raised it up to show her smiling with her pearly white teeth "It looks like I might be of assistance to you after all"

* * *

**Meanwhile at the Ulduar, Expeditions Base Camp**

Brann Bronzebeard was speaking to his advisor High Explorer Dellorah, they were trying to activate the Lore Keeper of the city, and with lore keeper active they would be able to discern any vital information regarding the cities purpose and security measures.

"Ahhh Damn it all to Dun Morogh!" exclaimed Brann, he had been working on getting the lore keeper active for the last two days now and was having little success, "The blasted security protocols are worse than the ones in the Halls of Stone! It's hard enough working under these conditions with an army of cold hearted Iron golems just a few hundred feet away"

"It's alright Brann" said Dellorah placing a reassuring hand on his stiff shoulder; he had been tense ever since his first exploration in Ulduar, it was said that of the fifty colleagues that journeyed with him he was the only survivor. But the news he brought back was far worse than what they had anticipated, according to Brann this city was actually a prison of the Old God Yogg'Saron, the news shook the High Explorer to the bone. After his return he had been more erratic and easy to anger, he would get into quarrels more so than often over things he once considered trivial, she had come with him in order to try and keep him level headed and try and help her fellow friend "Why don't you take a break, I'll finish up here, okay"

"Alright, might do me some good" said Brann, taking in a deep breath to calm him before turning around and walking over to the tent that had been set up by the Mages of the Kirin Tor; he rubbed his hand over his face to rub the stressed and tired look from it. As he drew back the sheet to the tent he peered inside, a lavishly decorated interior lay before him, mirrors, desks, a king size bed and a dresser, Brann sighed at the unnecessary amount of furniture that accompanied just one Dalaran Magi.

"Are you alright Brann?" came a sweet and nurturing voice to his side, turning he looked towards a true marvel, standing only a few feet from him was a blue robed priestess whose smile was just as lovely as her voice. She wore magnificently tailored robes of azure and silver, robes specifically made for her as part of the priesthood of Ironforge, behind her were two shoulder pads both having the carving of a blindfolded woman's face.

"Yes, priestess, I'm fine" replied Brann, his stress lessoning as he gazed at her, The Priestess was in fact an Argent Crusade Confessor and Healer who was assigned to the Expedition due to the Alliance commanders influence, along with the fact she had been also called to help Brann through his trauma over his first visit to the Titan City. He turned away from her and walked to one of the many desks that say inside the tent and propped himself up onto one of the stools, he had to stand rather than sit due to the fact the desks were meant to be used by humans and elves rather than dwarfs and gnomes.

The Priestess lifted herself onto a stool next to Brann's and stood silently next to him, she watched as he worked over several translations of ancient tablets and scripts, she had been like this with Brann for several weeks, ever since she was assigned to Brann. She would simply stand by him while he worked and kept the poor explorer company, she could see he needed it, that's why she was there to bring back some sense of purpose and hope to his troubled soul.

"Blast it" cried out Brann, throwing away several sheets of paper before resting his hands face into his palms, he had been working for many days with little sleep and little food or drink. Even though he says he would rest he would actually mean he would return to his tent to continue his research in private, everyone knew that because one way or another he was found like that, he had become almost fearful of sleeping, as if afraid his nightmare would claim him and he would never wake again. The Priestess rested her hand on Brann's shoulder, her cloths glowing slightly brighter as she used the light to soothe his tense demeanour.

"It's alright Brann" she said softly, taking him away from the desk and towards the bunk on the opposite end of the room "Come, lie down, you need your rest"

"No, no-no-no, I'm too busy, I need to have these glyph deciphered before we move" replied Brann, as he struggled to free himself from the soft yet firm hand of woman.

"You can finish it later, for now rest" she said laying the weary Dwarf onto his cot and placing her hand over his chest, where his heart would be, and letting the light pass from her and into him. "Let the light take away the darkness in your mind and allow your weary body to rest"

Brann slowly closed his eyes and he fell into a calming sleep, standing over him with a warm smile on her face was Sifri, the priestess who had been asked by High Explorer Dellorah to keep him company and help him with his grief and trauma. Sefri turned away from the High Explorers cot and went toward the exit, she felt the air cool as she approached the tent flaps, and she didn't feel much affected by the cold temperatures, spending nearly all her life in Dun Morogh had acclimatized her to even the most freezing of conditions. As she stepped out she looked up to the magical dome that shielded the expedition from the sight of the Titan cities security systems, which included flying machines, Iron Giants and legions of Iron Dwarfs, she peered towards a group of magi channelling their energies into a single person who directed that shared energy toward a magical ward.

Sefri approached the group as they struggled with the spell they were casting, sweat was beading their heads and their body were starting to slacken, she could feel the raw power that was being forced into the ward. Moments later the ward shot up a massive pillar of mana towards the pillar of the dome, Sefri feared that the energy would be seen by the enemy, her fears were leasoned when she saw the energy of the pillar merge with that of the dome and spread across its pinkish hue surface.

"Good work everyone" a childlike voice came from one of the Magi, Sefri turned to look to a small gnomish woman standing closely by the pillar, "With the ward directing the energy to the barrier we won't require our magi to continually try and maintain it"

"Yes Master Froststorm" bowed the other Magi before leaving; Sefri walked over to the small gnome and bowed herself before speaking.

"An impressive spell, Master Froststorm" complimented Sefri

"Please Sefri, you don't have to be so formal, it's just Annie when it's you and me, okay" said Master Annie Froststorm, putting her hands on her hips and smiling widely as her friend Sefri. "It make me sound so old when you call me Master, I'm only ninety"

"Alright Annie, my apologies" replied the priestess with a smile of her own and small laugh, she looked up at the ward and watched as the brightly glowing mana flowed from the crystal at the top of the rod towards the dome above. "It's beautiful"

"That it is, this it is" agreed Annie, they starred at the glowing pillar a second more before Annie asked "How's Brann doing?"

"He's… recovering" whispered Sefri softly, she didn't like speaking about Brann to anyone, she gave them only the barest of details about how he was doing, she was a confessor after all and things between a priest as their patron was confidential. "You know I don't like speaking about what goes on between me and Brann"

"Ohhhhh that sounds romantic, should I suspect you are healing him with more than just words" teased the girlish Gnome, earning herself a withered glare from the Dwarf priestess.

"No, you know full well that I'm a priest and not a courtesan" she replied, losing a little of her soft voice which was replaced with irritation, which only made the Gnome girl smile widen. "Now please do not ask me about Brann's condition again, alright?"

"Calm down, you know I'm only playing, I promise I won't ask you again" she said putting her hand up in mock defeat, but keeping her smile plastered across her face. "So, how long before were ready to move out?"

"I don't know" replied Sefri, she glanced around the camp and saw many warriors and mages, all the warriors present were Alliance soldiers and recruits while most of the mages were either Humans or Gnomes with a few Blood Elves. "The Horde's hasn't sent their forces; they said they would be sending fifty of their best here, including a very prominent Commander"

"I'm not that enthuses about having the Alliance and Horde working together so soon after what happened at the Wrathgate, a lot of people died there on both side, I don't think people are going to be civil when or if they arrive" said Annie, losing her childish grin for a more serious one.

"Then I pray that whoever is in charge of the Horde's forces is at least a bit… civil" replied Sefri, sighing a little at her choice of words of describing a warlord from the Horde. "But I doubt the Horde's commander will be the problem though"

"What do you mean?" asked Annie, looking at her slightly taller friend's solemn mood

"The Alliance's party is being led by Marshal Joana Lightlance" replied Sefri, as if the mere mention of the woman would state her point.

"Oh, I see, she is kind of the wrong person to send on a joint mission like this" replied Annie, smiling awkwardly as she rubbed her hand through her short light blue hair.

"Get those machine up and running" ordered Joana, she had been supervising the goblins for the better part of the day to get the war machine up and running, although 'supervising' may have been a complimentary term to her methods.

"Yeah yeah yeah, keep your breastplate on would yah" complained the goblin engineer, but keeping the last bit under his breath as to not irritate the woman, even though that all hated the woman they knew well enough to not incur her wrath. Otherwise they would be nothing more than a charred corpse on the stone floor.

"You have had days to get this equipment up and running" she stated "what is taking you so long?"

"If you haven't noticed" shouted out an engineer, throwing away any thoughts of safety "we are building dozens of these things and have to maintain them until their all built, so sorry for disappointing you your majesty" he said before bowing muckily.

Joana scowled at the insult he intently sent her way, her anger manifested in a small ring of fire that formed at her feet, she would have burnt the insulting creature to ash had it not been the expected arrival of people she despised more than some no name goblin, the Horde. She glanced over to the small platoon of soldiers than descended down the monolithic stairs to the expedition camp, there were close to fifty of them, leading them was a Troll and a Blood Elf, she narrowed her eyes at the two. She had heard that the one leading the group was actually a very influential member of the Horde and had several allies within the Alliance; she was completely disappointed that she had to deal with a savage animal and a treacherous elf, she approached them intend on making sure they don't interfere with her mission.

"al'ight get yah selves settled, an no fightin with anyone, got it" barked Zul'kal, he had been ordered shortly before the Shamans departure to lead the troops to Ulduar, he said he would join them once he met up with an old friend of his. Turning to the elf to his side, she was busy looking at the ward that was sending a continuous stream of energy into the barrier above them, and asked "letz meet their commander, Mairne wants a report when he arrives"

Adria turned to him and nodded, as they both were about to leave and search for the Alliances commander they were greeted by her themselves, they turned to see a woman in full battle plate. She wore a finely crafted suit of armour of gold and silver, a magnificently crafted piece; it was actually a gift from the Argent Crusade to her for her role in the establishment of what would become the Argent Tournament Grounds. She approached the two with a neutral face but they both could see she held contempt in her eyes for the two she was approaching, ignoring her cold stair the two waited for her to speak first.

"I take it you the leader of this pack of animals" she stated coldly, gesturing with her hand to the hordes forces that moved off, earning a glare from the Elf and surprisingly nothing from the Troll.

"No, me be the second in comman'" said Zul'kal, keeping his tone calm

"There were is your commander, has he turned tail and run"

"No, he had business to take care of, he'll be here soon" replied the Troll, keeping his tone civil in a very discourteous conversation.

"Whatever, just tell him to speak with me once he arrives, we have matters to discuss" she said dismissively, before turning around and leaving the two Horde officer standing there with a bored expression and the other with an irritated one.

"She gonna be a problem" said Zul'kal

"What arrogance, even for a human, I've seen nicer manners from a Vrykul" Adria stated her voice thick with annoyance.

"True, but there is little we can do about it" replied the Troll, he then turned and made a bee-line for the large ornamental tent near the far end of the camp.

"What do you mean? We can't just let her walk all over us" she retorted the Trolls response with one of her own.

"We can't disturb the fragile balance we have here right now, too much is at stake to have us kill one another before we start the real fight" reasoned the Troll, Adria did not reply at first, she ponder what he said and found no fault with it, but her own pride said that such disrespect should not be allowed.

"I understand, but if she thinks were savage animals, can we expect them to even aid us in this attack?" she said, but Zul'kal did not reply, he didn't need to the answer, she made her point and there was truth to it. In that woman's eyes they were nothing but fodder to be used at the right time, there was little hope for them working together.

* * *

**Alliance Forward Observation Base**

Tyresa gryphon landed at the small stable that had been set up at the camp, it was a shabby thing with four posts holding up a single solid wood roof and walls of thick leather fabric, and she dismounted and led the creature inside. She tied the beast to a pole and allowed it enough free room to sit in the hay pile close by. Exiting the tent she made for her tent, she had to speak with the other officers and tell them that she would be leaving for a while; she pushed back the silk flaps of the tents entrance and immediately saw the surprised looks of her officers.

"Marshal, where have you been? You just upped and disappeared" asked the young Sergeant, his face and tone conveying his apparent worry of her disappearance.

"I was called away on an urgent matter" she said plainly "Which is why I am here to tell you: I will be leaving again soon"

"But ma'am, you are meant to be here" said another Sergeant, slightly older than the first

"True, but my business will only be for a few days, I will returned with the week" she stated.

"But…" the Sergeant tried to speak before he was stopped by a hard glare from the Marshal

"You have no authority to command me, Sergeant, nor do any of you, true my obligation is here but my Paladin honours take me away from that obligation, so I ask you, should I ignore what honour demands?" she stated, her voice hard and with a sharp edge, the officer all looked at one another nervously, not wanting to argue with her in anyway or insult her honour. When no answer was given she returned to a more neutral tone and deposition.

"Good" she said "You will maintain the camp in my absence and when I return I expect there to be no problems, understood" a chorus of 'yes ma'am' was said and the officer quickly exited the tent to go about other task and to deliver the news about the commanders departure to the troops.

"Rosaria" whispered Tyresa, she turned her head to a small shadow that gathered to a small corner of the tent and from it emerged a large purple panther, an oddity for a creature to exist in such a cold and harsh environment as the Storm Peaks. But as energy began to form around the animal its presence was now fully clear, as its identity, its fur began to recede into its pale purple skin and its muscles began to shrink or increase on part of the body. Its paws and front legs morphed into smooth elegant hands and arms, which allowed it to lift itself onto its hind legs, which shifted into slender legs, as its body began to take shape drape of cloth began to cover the body as its physical appearance became that of a slender woman. Soon kneeling in front of the Paladin was a night elf.

Rising to her full height own could see her eye glow behind the small raven hood that covered her eyes, which in turn was covered by a dull green hood, two locks of white hair fell from the sides of the neck and down onto her robes. Extending down to her ankles was a perfectly tailored robe of green and light blue, which stuck to her form and showed off her very feminine physique, while her arms were exposed showing off her smooth purple skin save for her hands. The only other uncovered area was that just above her chest which dipped down to show off her cleavage, with the dress modestly covering most of her assets from view. In her hand was a two metre long wooden staff wrapped in leather bindings with metal scales moving up the crooked part of the staff to a solid eagle head as the headpiece.

"Yes, Marshal" asked the Night Elf Rosaria, her eyes glowing through the eye pieces of the eagle mask.

"I require you aid in a undertaking most difficult" Tyresa said in all seriousness

"I am always ready to help a friend in need, Marshal" said Rosario smiling

"Good" came the quick response from Tyresa before she turned and headed to the entrance of the tent, before she exited she turned back to her companion and said "Get your things together were going to Ulduar"

With a nod both Rosaria and Tyresa exited the tent and prepared to leave for Ulduar.


	3. Chapter 01: Working out the Kinks

**Authors Note: Hey guys Chapter three is up, and I hope you enjoy it, this chapter give you an idea on how some of the characters are going to interact with one another, and I am only one chapter away from when they are going to be sent to middle earth.**

**Now I must warn you I will not be detailing the group entire trip through the city, they will skip ahead to just after the defeat of Yogg'Saron, where they learn about the Observer and have to stop him. If you request for me to do the entire Ulduar raid story, I would be happy to, but only after I finish doing the Lords of Warcraft, along with several other projects I am currently working on.**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**_The Fellowship of the Ring_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Two Towers_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Return of the King_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

**Anyway enough of that enjoy the read, regards JIMMYJAMSTER728**

* * *

**Chapter 01: Working out the kinks**

As Mairne walked through the massive hallway entrance of Ulduar, he couldn't help but bask in the monolithic scale of the passage, it looked more like a chapel that the human constructed for worship, but it was only a passageway. The walls were smooth stone and the roof was arched, supported up by massive pillars, massive statues sat idly yet spaciously between them and presented themselves to any audience that passed by. Sadly the shaman could not admire the statues and craftsmanship that surrounded him, even for a moment, he had been given a delicate task to perform and its failure would mean utter and complete destruction of Azeroth. As he reached the end of the passageway and looked over the massive stone quad known as the Iron Concourse, as far as he could see were towers that littered the quad with their very presence, he could see hundred maybe even thousands of Iron defenders, they scurried around like ants on the ground, the only ones who were visable were the massive colossi that stood guard next to the towers.

Looking down to the camp below he saw over a hundred separate individuals working to build and maintain complex war machines that were to be used to lay siege to the city, some were heavily armoured and appeared to possess no apparent weaponry aside from the massive steel plated front which was a battering ram. From their design he could see they were made by gnomes, their designs were always less crudely shaped and designed than that of the goblins, which led him to see their creations. These catapult designed machines were mainly made of wood and held together by randomly places sheets of metal, he could see a crude engine attached to the back of the machines, well at least we won't have to push it he thought with a sigh. Walking down the steps he caught sight of a single figure sitting down on the large stone steps, he was slumped forward and had his head in his left hand, immediately he knew who it was.

"Zul'kal" called out the Shaman, removing the troll from his fantasizing; turning the troll breathed a sigh of relief to finally have his commanding officer here.

"bowt time yah showed up" he said irritably, while getting to his feet

"My apologise, my business took more time than expected" replied Mairne plainly

"Well its good yah here, that human be starting to become a pain in tha backside"

"Yes, I had heard she is a difficult person to work with"

"You have no idea" was all Zul'kal said on the matter, before he moved onto a new one "Anyway, they be hold'in a meet'in in a the command tent, they be just waiting for you to arrive"

Mairne nodded and with his second in command made his way to the tent, as he they did they could feel the tension in the air, all around them were warriors from both the horde and alliance who were simply eyeing another. They acted as if waiting for a secret order to start attacking one another, Mairne sighed, as he passed by two groups who were eyeing one another and performing simple task such as sharpening their weapons in a threatening gesture to the other group. As he passed them both he eyed the seven orcs who were sitting around and on a stack of crates, the looked at their commander expectantly, Mairne shot them with a dissuading glare, telling them if they cause trouble they would face his punishment. The orc looked disappointed by this and continued on their tasks, which involved subtle inaudible threat to the Alliance soldiers, Mairne glanced at the Alliance Marines and saw them eyeing him in disgust, one going so far as to spit in his general direction. Mairne ignored the soldiers and continued on his way, he was right to go to Tyresa for help; the state of which both parties were in was not the best.

Entering the tent Mairne caught glimpse of several individuals, each belonging to several different groups, the first he saw were two Kirin Tor Mages, two humans a male and female along with a Gnome – who was standing on the edge of the table conversing with the other two -. The second group he saw were a group of Dwarfs; he recognised one as Brann Brozebeard and two women with him, one from the Explorers league just as Brann and another the Argent Crusade, Mairne wonder if Tirion Fordring was sending aid. Then to his right he saw a single human paladin leaning against a desk, from the scowl on her face and her aggressiveness she displayed even when doing nothing he recognised her immediately over the others, she was Commander Joana Lightlance.

"Ah, you must be Mairne Ragetotem, it is good you have arrived" said the bald Magi, everyone turned to the entrance to observe the newcomer, each giving different looks. The Magi were relieved that he had finally arrived; the dwarves were neutral yet were glad with only the Argent Crusader confessor actually showing it by smiling warmly, while Joana simply stared at him with narrow eyes.

"Yes, I apologise for my lateness, I had business that needed to be attended to before we strike" said the Shaman in a calm and polite tone

"Business? What kind of business is more important than stopping the total destruction of Azeroth?" berated Joana, she had little love for the Horde and all its members, and she hated them all on principle because they were part of the Horde. "Because of you we have been stuck here waiting, we should be attacking right now"

"Are we prepared to assault Ulduar?" Mairne asked plainly, not to the paladin but to the Magi who addressed him earlier

"Well, yes, but we have…" started the Magi, but was cut off by the Paladin

"You see, because of you we have been delayed" she insulted

"Then why haven't the men been put into position?" asked the Shaman, Joana was thrown off by the question, when she didn't answer he decided to elaborate "I'm asking why are your men and mine are sitting around sharpening their sword when they should be in their machines and be ready at a moment's notice to attack, in fact why haven't they attacked? My second in command is more than capable at leading in my absence, why haven't you attacked?"

Joana and many of the members of the room were surprised by the way he turned around what could have been a violent situation, they had expected him to raise his voice and even threaten the paladin, but for him to outwit her at her own game was something else. Joana grounded her teeth in anger, not because of her previous argument but because she had been made the fool, before she could act again a cough drew everyone attention back to the bold Archmage.

"As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted" said the Archmage, casting a light glare to the paladin, which angered her further "We haven't attacked because Brann here is still trying to access the cities defence systems to give us an edge against the enemy, even though we are ready to deploy our forces we don't have much information on their defence capabilities"

"I see" replied the Shaman, he turned to the dwarf in the brown hat and asked "How close are you to accessing the cities internal systems?"

"Were close, we just need some more time" he said to the Shaman, his voice rough and tired, Marine nodded and continued

"I recommend we prepare the assault with what information we have on hand and go on from there, better than just sitting around and doing nothing" Mairne suggested to the other members of the meeting, nearly all of which nodded aside from a certain Paladin, he turned to his second in command and spoke to him "Tell the men to get to their machines and prepare, they may need to leave at a moment's notice"

The troll nodded before turning and leaving the tent to carry out his orders, while the two Dwarven explorers followed suite soon after to continue their attempts to access the cities defence network, leaving only Mairne, Joana, Sefri and the Kirin Tor Magi to discuss the plan of attack.

"Alright'y then let start" said the child-size Gnome as she struck the base of her staff against the table's wooden surface.

"Shaman Ragetotem, I was informed by your second in command that you have fifty soldiers under your command, most of which are part of the Warsong Offensive" asked the bald Archmage

"Yes that is correct Archma… my apologies" said Mairne suddenly "I have yet to learnt your names"

"Ah no apologies needed high shaman, my name is Archmage Pentarus" replied the balding man, who then went on to identify his compatriots. "To my right is Archmage Rhydian and my right is Archmage Annie"

Both nodded when they were addressed by their fellow mage, Mairne turned to the Dwarf priestess who smiled at him before speaking.

"My name is Sefri Anvilheart, Confessor of the Argent Crusade"

"Is the crusade sending aid to this endeavour" asked Mairne

"Sadly No, I was personally asked here to provide assistance" Mairne nodded in understanding before turning to the Human Paladin who had her hands across her chest and stern expression on her face.

"And your name, young Paladin?" asked Mairne in a civil tone

"My name, Tauren, is…" she started her voice hard and heated as she spoke, but was rudely interrupted by another voice

"Joana Lightlance" came from the entrance of the tent, standing there in full battle plate was none other than Marshal Tyresa the Wrathful, with a deep scowl on her face similar to the woman she just called out, but is was marred with disappointment, and she was looking right as Joana.

"M-m-m-marshal, what a-are you doing h-here?" stuttered the younger Paladin, losing her hard voice with a more timid one.

"I heard you have been assigned to help lead this assault, and decided to see how you were doing" replied the senior Paladin, her voice losing its intensity but not entirely, she obviously disapproved of the younger ones attitude. "And I come here and find you berating your fellow commanding officer and treating him with disrespect"

"I-I-I-I was… I-I" tried Joana to speak her piece, but was unable to form a compelling argument, then before she could ramble any further Tyresa raised her hand telling her to stop. Then Tyresa approached the High Shaman and said to him

"My apologies on my former student lacking in manners, I thought I had trained her better than this" she said at first plainly, before dipping off into a scornful tone as she mentioned Joana, who simply lowered her head in shame, to be looked down upon by you master was something that would put anyone to shame.

"It is of no consequence, I was late and she was simply annoyed that my delay could have caused an interruption in the time of the assault" said Mairne, brushing off the entire spectacle as nothing more than a misunderstanding. Joana hated the fact that she had shamed herself in front of her mentor, but what really did it to her was the fact that the Shaman was actually taking pity on her.

"I see, but still…" she turned away from the Shaman and to her former pupil, acting as a teacher to a student "A paladin is to act accordingly in the presence of authority, we are the embodiment of honour and virtue, and the way you acted was unbecoming of a paladin, we are all allies here and we should treat each other as such"

'Allies?' thought Joana 'How can she call that creature an ally?"

For a moment Joana was silent, she hated the Horde with a passion, her family was killed during the Second War by the Horde and over her entire life she has hand nothing but hostility towards them, to ally with them was something she greatly opposed. Thinking they were nothing more than savages, she even tried so far as to try and reason with the allies to annul the peace treaty and take action against, to wipe them out once and for all, but her pleas were rejected.

Joana looked up to her former mentor, the woman who taught her everything she knew, she taught her how to fight, and how best to serve the alliance, and tried to teach her how that being a paladin is not about personal vengeance. She knew her mentor was right on this matter, as was the Tauren on the attack, but her hostility towards the horde wouldn't allow her to simply allow her to shake hands with the creature.

"Yes… Master Tyresa" she begrudgingly replied

"Good, now I wish to know what the plan of attack is, I want to make sure we don't make a suicidal assault against them" she said studying the map of the Iron Concourse, there were a few shocked faces in the room, none more shocked than Joana.

"You're staying?" she asked

"No" was Tyresa's response, Joana relaxed a little, but then she finished with "I'm taking command"

Joana heart sank at that, what had she done to warrant her former mentor from taking away her command, she was more than skilled enough to lead this assault, why was she being punished like this?

"But Marshal, I am perfectly capable of leading this assault, there is no need for you to…" she tried to speak but was cut off again; Tyresa raised her hand to stop her speaking and then moved it to motion her forward.

"Alright Joana, tell me how would you assault the entrance" she stepped away gave her former apprentice room to strategies.

"I… I would send our forces in a wave, with the heavy armoured siege engines at the front and the demolisher in the rear to provide cover and support" she started "While the demolishers rained death down onto the enemies from afar, the siege engines can take down anything that tried to get to close"

"What of the bikes, where do they fit in to your plan of attack?" asked the Tauren

"We can send them on light recon and to protect the demolishers if the enemy manages to get through, they have little offensive capabilities but the marksman in the passenger compartments should be able to take down the iron construct fairly easily" she replied, to which to Tauren nodded in agreement.

"Once we reach the entrance we will fortify the position against the enemy and once it is secure we can move onward to the cities interior" she finished her strategy to everyone in the room.

"Very good, I agree with the method of assault" said Tyresa, her voice plain, but the praise could be felt, to which Joana beamed in satisfaction. "Rosaria" everyone turned to the entrance were a single night elf stood waiting; she had completely gone unnoticed until now.

"Yes Marshal?" Rosaria asked

"Get the men together and inform them of the plan of attack, also inform the Hordes officer as well" she turned to Mairne, who nodded and said "Zul'kal, he is my second in command, he will be organising the my forces"

"As you wish" she said before turning and leaving

"Pentarus, these towers here, what are they?" asked Mairne referring to four points on the map, each one showed a different coloured tower.

"Unknown at the moment, but based on what we know they are some sort of generator, they hold a lot of ley line energy that is being channelled towards the main gate. As far as we know it may be some sort of defence system" replied the bald mage

"Then it would be prudent that they be destroyed" suggested Mairne

"While we clear the concourse we can manoeuvrer our forces around and strike them as we pass" Joana made a small simulation with the models on the board "While our main force move forward we send on a siege engine and maybe two demolishers and destroy the towers as we pass, and from those positions they can move from the tower and return to formation with the rest of our advancing force"

There were several nods of approval at the idea.

"Diverting to little support to the area could be catastrophic, they would have little support and one siege engine cannot defend two demolishers in such a large area" said Mairne

"What would you suggest" asked Tyresa, Mairne scanned the map and looked at the layout of the concourse.

"While our forces move forward through the concourse, we divert half our forces to the green tower" this cause some shocked responses from the group, but Tyresa held up her hand and waited for him to continue "The formation you suggested Joana will still work, even with fewer numbers, and this will remove the risk of an attack on the rear guard"

"From there the forces will clear the lower tier of the concourse quickly, they should have little defences present there and should be easily managed with ten or more machines, from there they can move up the second ramp and assault the enemy from the side"

Everyone now was starting to get an idea on the theory behind Mairnes plan was, the second force would push ahead through the shortcut and attack the enemy from the side and relieve the first force.

"Then the first group will repeat this with the second tower, when the second group relieves them they will move the to the higher tier and assault the red tower, and once they have done this they will relieve the second group by assaulting the flank from the left"

It was a good plan, a risky plan, but a good one none the less, if it was pulled off correctly than they would actually be able to inflict heavy damage on the enemies' forces and lower their own. Though Joana didn't like the idea of following the Tauren's plan it was a better option than the one she suggested.

"What about the other towers?" asked Sefri

"Simple, once the concourse has been cleared a small team can easily assault these areas and destroy the towers with little assistance from the main force" replied Mairne

"It's a good plan, but if it fails it will be disastrous" replied Rhydian

"That is why we need to know what type of defences were dealing with, and if we get the defence network running then we have that information" replied Annie

"We can't wait forever for him to try and hack into the system, if we wait too long we risk…" started Joana, but was interrupted yet again, this time by a mage who rushed into the tent.

"Master Pantarus" said the young mage

"Yes, what is it?"

"There is a problem in the camp" he said frantically

"Well spit it out"

"There's this orc, he…" before he could finish, a bellowing scream echoed through the camp

"SHAMAN!" the metallic cry carried itself across the camp, everyone who heard it turned to the High Shaman who was rubbing his eye and letting up a sigh of annoyance.

"Great, he's here" he said, before letting out another breath "Now I have to deal with him"

"Wait, who is it?" asked Tyresa

"Varro Dreadbringer" the Shaman replied, everyone had their mouth drop to the floor and their eye pop out of their heads at the mere mention of his name, they had all heard of him, he was considered a legend among most and a monster among the rest.

It was said he ripped a dragons wing off with his bare hands, which is widely disputed as fact or fiction but they would never question it in front of the Orc, after all the only thing larger than his legend was his psychotic rage. On multiple occasions he had been reported to cause nothing but trouble, in Dalaran he had gotten into a bar fight with eight orcs, two Tauren, five trolls, a forsaken as well as fifteen guards and still came out on top, over the fact that the bartender brought him the wrong ale. The fact he was here meant one of two things, either he was here to help or was here to kick someone's ass; depending on his mood it could go one way or the other or possibly both simultaneously. Cautiously they exited the tent and went after Mairne.

Varro had landed in the middle of the camp a few minutes ago and as soon as he did he was approached by a mage that kept telling him to calm down, a single glance and a nasty snarl later the mage was cowering behind a crate. He had come here on the request of the Shaman; he owed him, which was the only reason he had decided to come here, to repay the debt he owed to the bull that saved his sorry hide.

"Death Knight" came a strong voice from behind Varro, turning he saw the bull he was looking for, as the Tauren approached they stood a few inches away from one another, they both looked into each other's eyes as if gauging the other. Surprisingly both of them stood at nearly equal height, just over eight and a half feet tall, around them were nervous onlookers. Everyone who knew who those two were knew they weren't people to be messing with, the Orc who could kill a dragon with his bare hands and a shaman who was considered one of the strongest of his generation.

"So you called me here to help your sorry hide?" sneered Varro

"Yes, I knew that the only way to beat something with a steal skull was to use something has one that's a little thicker" replied the Shaman

"You have some nerve calling me here, let alone insulting me" growled the Orc Death Knight "I have more important matters in Icecrown to deal with, not walking scrap metal"

"And how is throwing initiates off and out of that tower important, you need to learn how to be patient pup" asked Mairne in an amused tone

In response the orc placed his hand on the hilt of his blade and slowly edged it off of his back and from the metal clamps on his back, the sword was so large that it risked scraping against the ground as the user walked, it was a blade made for a vrykul rather than a orc even Varro's size. As the blade was finally released from the orcs back he held it high up in the air, an impressive feat for something so large, then he brought the blade down to his side, the blade shattered the ground and cut even deeper than the crater it formed. Everyone was on edge, a blade like that wielded by someone like Varro was deadly, and a single hit would cut you in half, no matter what you were wearing or where he hit you.

To everyone's amazement Mairne was completely unaffected by the orcs show of strength or the destructive capabilities of his weapon, instead he was disappointed, with a scornful voice he spoke to the Orc.

"I had expected that after that little incident in Naxxramus that you would have learnt to control yourself, but it would seem, that you are still the hot head fool you have always been"

Everyone was completely shocked that he would insult the Orc in such a tone, he knew, hell everyone knew, that no matter what never piss him off, and he just broke that one golden rule. The orc gritted his teeth in rage and forcefully ripped the sword from the ground and swung it back, everyone knew what was going to happen as soon as he drew that massive sword of his, before he swung it forward. For a moment Mairne did nothing, he looked at the orc with disappointing eyes before closing them, Tyresa was about to jump in and try and save the Shaman but then she saw him move faster than she though he could. Mairne reached for his shield and hand and drew both quickly, with his shield his blocked the wide swing of the orc, the force of the blow made the Taurens hooves scrape a few inches across the stone floor, if it was anyone other than Mairne fighting Varro they would have either been killed or blown across the camp.

The sword remained pressed against the Shamans shield, and then Mairne drew back his hammer and punching it forward against the blade, the huge sword was knocked away from the shield and left the orc wide open for an attack, which the shaman took. As the strangely ornate hammer knocked the sword away it was brought back up and into the orcs jaw, Varro jerked to the side, recovering quickly Varro bought his blade to his front and then with both hands brought the blade up above his shoulder to bring it down onto Mairne. Seeing the incoming attack Mairne raised his shielded and braced himself for impact, when the sword struck the stone beneath the shaman's hooves cracked, throwing the sword off with his shield to the right Mairne spun around and delivered a bone crushing strike to the orcs head. Blood spewed from the orcs skull and he jerked to the side, but the attack was not done, Mairne followed up his strike with another, continuing his rotation he slammed the edge of his shield into the orcs back, knocking him to his knees.

"Have you learnt nothing since that day" shouted Mairne to his downed opponent "You recklessness and pride nearly cost you your life and that of many others, and yet you still act like a fool"

The only response was a backward swing from Varro; Mairne raised his shield to block the strike but was caught off guard by the attack, Mairne staggered back from the blow, completely unprepared for it. Mairne regained his footing just in time to block a wide swing from Varro, the Shaman's arm screamed in protest at the force it had halted, angling the shield he forced the blade to pass over head and then brought back his hammer to swing. But to his shock the blade was caught by the Orcs free hand, leaving the shaman vulnerable to a counter attack, with a hard kick to the stomach Mairne was knocked away and his hammer was lost.

"I have learnt enough, Shaman" said the Orc to the Taurens previous question

"You have improved in skill, which I will admit" said Mairne as he slowly rose to his feet, his stance slightly more slouched than it once was "But you are still a child - brash, foolish and incompetent"

The orc flew at the Tauren and planned to impale the old bull, crouching low Mairne prepared to blocked the strike while also chanting under his breath, sword met shield and sword slid over its surface and over the Shaman, leaving the orc's chest exposed. One would think without a weapon a warrior has no way to harm you, but when your enemy is a shaman, Mairne thrust his fist forward and into the orcs chest, a massive gust of wind struck the orc and he was sent flying away. Landed with a heavy thud and sliding against the stone floor the orc was thoroughly beaten, Mairne raised his hand and his hammer flew back to him, Mairne approached the downed Orc and stood over him, as Varro tried to raise the Taurens Hooved foot came down on his chest.

"Listen to me Varro, you are here because I asked you here, and while you are here you will follow my commands without question" stated the High Shaman "I don't care if you don't like it, you owe me more than just saving your life, I gave you the wisdom you need to better yourself. If you cannot see that or are too stupid to realise it, then all I have done is waste my time in saving you"

Mairne removed his foot from the Orc's chest and walked away, for a moment there was nothing, then Varro called out.

"Wait" Mairne turned to the rising Death Knight "I don't care about your wisdom, but I do know that honour demand I help you, I will fight by your side and follow you command. But know this; once my debt to you is paid I do not want to see you again"

"Agreed" was all Mairne said to the Orc before turning to the rest of the people who were watching wide eyed "What are you doing? Get to your machines and prepare to move out"

Everyone returned to their sense and went to getting in their machines, even the Alliance did so, the last thing they wanted was to fight someone who could go toe to toe with a legend and come out on top.

* * *

One Hour Later

* * *

The forces were prepared and the machines were ready and waiting, the plan was hatched and the assault would begin soon. Mairne, Tyresa, Archmage Rhydian, Brann and Dellorah were gathered around the interface device of the Ulduar defence network, the last of it was being brought online, then with flash of light a figure appeared before them.

"Lore Keeper of Norgannon activated, security access restricted… identity confirmed, welcome Branbronzen, query"

"Branbronzon?" wondered Rhydian

"Wait this is a Lore Keeper?" exclaimed Dellorah "I heard a story or two of a Lore Keeper in Uldaman that fit your description. Do you serve a similar purpose?"

"I was constructed to serve as a repository for essential information regarding this complex. My primary functions include communicating the status of the frontal defence systems and assessing the status of the entity that this complex was built to imprison"

"Frontal defence systems?" Asked Brann "Is there anything I should know before I try sending anyone into the complex?"

"Access to the interior of the complex is currently restricted. Primary defensive emplacements are active. Secondary systems are currently non-active"

"Can you detail the nature of these defense systems?" when the question was asked there was a moment pause before the Lore Keeper spoke again.

"Compromise of complex detected" then its image flickered before it continued "security override enabled - query permitted. Primary defensive emplacements consist of iron constructs and Storm Beacons, which will generate additional constructs as necessary. Secondary systems consist of orbital defence emplacements"

"So those tower produce more soldiers, were going to have to take them out as we advance" said Mairne

"It's too bad we have to destroy them, they offer good obstacles for the swarms of iron constructs down there" said Tyresa

"At least we don't have to deal with those orbital emplacements" said Brann "Rhydian, can I count on your Magi to deal with their air defences?"

"Of course Brann, ill mobilise my forces immediately" Archmage Rhydian replied and with a nod left to prepare.

"Alright, I think we have all we need to know about these defences" stated Tyresa, she turned to Mairne and with a savage grin she continued "So Shaman you ready?"

"I am always ready" stated the Shaman with a similar grin plaster on his face, both turned away and went about to lead their warriors into battle.

As they left Dellorah turned to the Lore Keeper once again

"Lore Keeper you mentioned an imprisoned entity? What is the nature of this entity and what is its status?" asked Dellorah

"Entity designate: Yogg-Saron. Security has been compromised. Prison operational status unknown, Unable to contact Watchers for notification purposes"

"Yogg-Saron is here? It sounds like we really will have our hands full then"

Ten Minutes Later

Mairne was standing on the side of the demolisher he would be commanding, in front of him was the shimmering wall of the protective dome the mages had created to mask their presence, he would be in command of twelve war machines and several choppers.

Ahead of him were Tyresa's and Joana's forces, taking up the forward formation of the attack, and ahead of them was Brann Bronzebeard in his gyrocopter speaking with Pentarus.

"This is Brann, what is your status?" he asked over the radios of the War machines

"This is Tyresa; our siege engines are ready and waiting"

"This is Rhydian; our gryphons are ready to fly"

"This is Mairne, our demolisher are ready to strike"

"You heard them, get the shield down and let these brave souls through"

"Of course, we will drop the shield momentarily" said the Archmage before he blinked away to the ward that sustained the shield over the camp "Release the shield; defend this platform and our allies with your lives! For Dalaran"

The ward stopped feeding power into the shield above and slowly it began to fade away, revealing the camp to the armies of iron, and with a roar from Brann the machines rushed into battle.

"Charge!"

Thirty war machines rushed onto the concourse and towards the iron army that rushed to meet their attackers.

The Siege of Ulduar had begun.


	4. Chapter 02: The Observer

**Phew. This was a long one, took me a while to get it going, learning all the spells and then planning out the fight and then going on to writing it. Really take it out of you, anyway this is the last part of the introductions. **

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**_The Fellowship of the Ring_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Two Towers_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**  
**_The Return of the King_ by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

**Hope you enjoy the read.**

* * *

**Chapter 02: The Observer**

It had been long, it had been hard, it had been bloody, but in the end their battle had been won, the city of Ulduar had been assaulted and its dark prisoner had been slain, Yogg'Saron was no more and all his servants had been bested. Mairne and Tyresa led to last of their forces out of the depths and back to the splendored corridors of the titan city, of the thirty that descended into only fifteen came back out, it had been a costly battle for them all but in the end they had succeeded.

"Thank the light its over" exclaimed Sergeant Derrick, he was one of the only three remaining humans in the group counting both Tyresa and her former apprentice Joana.

"You got that right, it was a nightmare down there, I'm going to be happy when we get back to Dalaran and have a drink" said the Dwarf marksman who was trotting beside the tired Sergeant, earning a few chuckles from the rest of the group

"Hah! I bet I could out drink you dwarf!" challenged Dranok, the Orc had a cocky grin on his face which looked like a snarl, the Dwarf turned to him and shot back.

"Oh! Is that a challenge I hear? Then so be it, I'll show you the fortitude we dwarves are famous for"

Sefri sighed wearily at the spectacle that was performing around her

"An orc battling a dwarf in a drinking contest, oh I wonder who will win" said Zul'kal, the sarcasm practically drooling out of his mouth and onto the floor.

"Indeed, I thought orcs were at least smarted than to think they could out drink a dwarf" agreed Magister Puresight, limping lightly on his left leg, still sore from the previous battle.

"I have seen many wonders in my life, but I know I will never see something like that" said the Orc Shaman that walked ahead of them

"Ah to the twisted nether with all of you, I'll bet a year's wages that I can beat him without breaking a sweat" said Dranok

"It's a poor reflection on character by taking money from a fool" said Magister Puresight, looking at the orc dryly

"I'll take that bet" said Zul'kal, causing the Blood elf mage to shake his downcast head, "and I expect that money no later than the morning after that dwarf beats you"

It was good to see the soldiers from both sides interact with one another in a more friendly way, like the times when they had fought beside each other during the latter part of the War in outland and near the beginning of the war against the Lich King. Even Joana was an better terms with the Horde warriors, though she did still possess a silent scorn for them, she however did speak with them on a more equal and personnel level than she did when they first arrived. Mairne was however not pleased that the entire event led to the deaths of many good warriors, all of which were some of the best the horde and alliance had to offer, but he couldn't be upset over the outcome, it was a resounding success considering how badly things could have turned out for only sending in a such a small force.

"Looks like the troops are getting along" said Tyresa, who walked next to the Shaman, Mairne looked down at her and saw how pleased she was as well.

"Yes, it is good" stated Mairne plainly

"I take it you don't agree with me entirely"

"We have lost much in this assault and because of that, what was brought out of this victory will be lessoned as a result" reasoned Mairne

"Yes, but sometime we have to make do with what we are given"

"Such wisdom, you are half my age and would appear to have more than me" chuckled Mairne

"Hey! I'm not that old you know!" yelled Tyresa

There were more chuckles from the troops.

"Alright enough out of you all" Tyresa ordered "Lets meet up with Brann and the rest of our men and get out of here"

There was a resounding cry of 'yes ma'am' from all the troops.

For the next half an hour they walked peacefully through the city until they made it the Achieve, ahead of them they saw the five remaining members of their party along with Brann Bronzebeard looking over the Achieve console.

"Affirmative, Timestamp of Prime Designate Loken's destruction coincides with signal activation" appeared the automated voice of the computer terminal

"Well? Who's on the listening side of the signal? What's going to happen?" shouted Brann to the console as if it was a living being.

"Searching" replied the console, taking a few moments to reply

"Brann, what's going on?" called out Tyresa; she quickened her pace towards the High Explorer hoping to understand why he was so erratic about. Brann didn't turn to reply; instead he waited for the answer to his query.

"Destruction of Prime Designate is considered the first warning sign of systemic planetary failure. Algalon observer entity's arrival is followed by planetary diagnostics resulting in one of two possible reply signals: Reply-code Alpha, signalling "All is well" and Reply-code Omega, signalling planetary re-origination"

There recent arriving party was completely baffled at what they were hearing.

"Planetary re-origination? Speak plainly, ye blasted machine!" shouted Brann

"The decomposition of the planet and its living organisms into base elements: metals, rocks, gases. This is followed by a period of reconstitution of each element into the original planetary blueprint"

"You wanted to know what was going on Marshal. Well don't worry! It's only the end of the world!" Brann shouted to the shocked Marshal, before turning back to the console and speaking to it "Well, what are ye waiting for, ye rusty machine? Initiate Reply-code Alpha, all is well! Pints are on me!"

"I hear that" said the Dwarf Beugun to Dranok, both chuckled lightly to one another

"Request denied" Everyone froze when they heard those words "Reply-codes built into Algalon observer entity. He is both messenger and message"

"Well, what's this Algalon going to be looking for with his diagnostics? What are our chances?" Inquired Brann nervous about the planets chances of being wiped out along with every single race along with it

"Algalon diagnostics assess danger of systemic Old God corruption in planetary vital functions. Calculating chance of Omega Reply-code..."

The next few moments were like torture, what was a second was an hour and there were beads of nervous sweat on everyone's head, right now the computer was calculated the chances that the world was going to be destroyed.

"Ninety-nine point nine nine percent" It hit harder than a mountain falling on top of them, the weight of that delivery was so great some had actually fallen to their knees in shock, and to add insult to their already grievous injuries if finished with.

"That's repeating of course"

"Blast it" cried out Brann "Looks like we've got a fight ahead of us"

"A fight? Look at us were barely survived against that damn Old God and now we have to fight some… Algalon" shouted Adria "We have no idea what this thing could be, it might be some sort of super weapon, or one of the titans themselves"

"What do you suggest, we lay down and die, we are all that's left, we have to stop this thing from destroying Azeroth" retorted Rosaria, argument started to erupt everywhere, people cursing and shouting at one another on what must be done.

"Silence!" shouted Mairne, his voice like thunder, over-shadowing the bellows of all around him, turning to Brann he asked "Where is this 'Algalon'?"

"It said it was in the Celestial Planetarium, it's not far from here we can get there in a few minutes if we hurry"

Mairne nodded and rushed out the Archive, his warriors and Brann rushing with him, he stopped and turned to the few that remained and said to them.

"Do you wish to lie down and die, or would fight with me one last time to save our world?"

There was no argument from any of the warrior present, their faces showed their determination to fight to the bitter end, Mairne smiled and together they took off towards the Celestial Planetarium to fight the final battle against this Observer.

* * *

Ten minutes later

They arrived at the entrance to the Celestial Planetarium, in front of the entryway a console with a glowing sphere dead in the centre of it, a massive fifteen foot tall door blocked their way, a massive circular crevice acting as some sort of lock. Mairne approached the base of the door and looked up to the gap; he could make out four curved outlines that showed large pieces were meant to be placed within each section, it must be the locking mechanism that seals off the Planetarium.

"Darn it" shouted Brann "This thing is locked up tight, we need the key"

"Key? What key?" asked Tyresa

"The thing requires four sigil's from each of the Watchers, they are the only ones who can open the door" stated Brann

"Sigil's" murmured Rosaria, thinking on something that happened some time ago, then she remembered, pulling out a small talon shaped disk "Is this one of the sigils you were speaking off"

Brann snatched the object from the elf's hands and examined it, he turned to the console and placed the sigil onto the glowing orb in the center of the terminal, the sigil sank into the object and faded away, then the sound of mechanisms moving could be heard and above them the sigil that once fit into the elf's hands was now covered a quarter of the crevice.

"That was it!" shouted Brann "Does anyone else have any?"

"Wait, I think I found one when I was in the Halls of Winter" said Annie, pulling out her own sigil, this one had an image of a snow flake encrusted in it than the leaf that was in Rosaria's.

"Good Good" said Brann

"Yes, I found this after Thorim's defeat" said Tyresa, pulling out the third sigil, a lightning bold encrusted onto the half crescent shaped key.

"Yes, all we need is one more" said Brann as he placed both sigils inside the glowing dome and the crevice produced two larger versions to take up space within the circular gap, leaving room for one more.

"And I have it right here" said Joana, holding out an almost exact replica of the other sigil's save for red cog wheel emblazed on it, giving the last sigil to Brann, who placed it within the orb, they watched as a larger version appeared and the mechanisms for the door began to groan as it opened itself after millennia of being unused.

The door groaned as they opened slowly and revealed a large corridor, without waiting for the doors to fully open they rushed through to meet this Algalon, their charge let them to a colossal cylindrical room with a transparent blue floor. There was no reason for why it was called the Celestial Planetarium, there were no holographic diagrams of planetary bodies that flowed through the twisted nether, it was a bare room with no content, other than the figure who stood in the centre.

Standing in the centre of the room was a figure whose form glowed a dazzling light blue, he wore great flowing robes and a hood, which hid his face from view, only allowing his glowing eyes and long flowing braided beard to be seen. His form however was completely transparent, allowing all to see inside his massive form, his body was formed from a constellation; stars were positioned in his body where his joints would exist in a normal human being. The twenty warrior could only watch in complete awe at the creature in front of them, they had faced the watchers before them and they did not compare to the raw power that this Observer possessed in great bulks, but their mesmerised stared were interrupted when he spoke.

"Trans-location complete, commencing planetary analysis of Azeroth" his voice loud and booming, yet carried no emotion with it, it raised its hand and below it a holographic image of Azeroth appeared. Everyone was slightly apprehensive about attacking this Algalon, he may not show emotion for planning on destroying their world but they couldn't fight the creature with such power and hope to come out victorious. Slowly Tyresa approached the Observer.

"Hello" she said, he voice not as composed as it usually is, the Observer turned it head to the group that lay before it, their weapons drawn and ready for a fight.

"Stand back mortal, I am not here to fight you" said the Observer, his voice dispassionate, before turning back to the holographic image of the world of Azeroth.

"Wait, please hear me out" pleaded Tyresa, she had to try and stop him from re-originating their world, having to fight him seemed like something that would not end well for any of them "You don't need to re-originate this world, Yogg'Saron has been defeated and his hold over your watchers has been removed, there is no need for this"

"It is in the universe's best interest to re-originate this planet should my analysis find systemic corruption. Do not interfere" replied the Observer, its voice deepening as it spoke it warning to the Paladin, who flinched away slightly.

"To hell with the universe and you!" the metallic timbre battle roar of Varro echoed through the planetarium, as he leapt above the Paladin and at the Observer. His massive sword Armageddon in both hands above his head ready to cleave the Observer in two, as he brought down his weapon to Algalon's head, who watched out of the corner of its glowing eyes, the blade was caught between the thumb and index finger of the Observers free hand.

Gasps of shock were heard from the entire crowd who watched, and a deep growl of frustration from Varro at having his weapon stopped so easily, and Algalon simply kept his attention of the holographic projection of Azeroth.

"Your actions are illogical. All possible results for this encounter have been calculated. The Pantheon will receive the Observer's message regardless of outcome" stated the Observer, and then with a flick of his wrist Varro was thrown away with his sword to the nearby wall column which shattered on impact and collapsed on top of the fallen orc as he hit the ground. To see such a powerful warrior defeated so easily was disheartening, he was easily one of the strongest of the group, he may be a blood crazed fool but he was still a great warrior that could only be matched in strength by a drake and size by a Tauren.

One said Tauren launched himself at the Observer as soon as the Death Knight had been dispatched, swinging his mace quickly, but only to be stopped with a simple raised hand, then drawing back its free hand it threw its palm toward the Tauren. Mairne raised his shield to absorb the strike, but was caught off guard by the sheer force of the attack; he felt his entire arm ache as he skidded back along the floor towards the entrance, as Mairne came to a stop he was forced down to one knee to grasp his sore arm. The Observer turned and faced the group, he stood there calmly waiting for the next attacker to try and attack, then below him a red ring appeared, slowly the energy began to build and then a large pillar or fire erupted out from the surface, consuming the Observer in flame. Turning everyone saw Annie holding her hands forward and her deep scowl of concentration on her face, but that scowl turned to surprise with what she saw next, Algalon stood there completely unharmed by the attack.

Then Joana, Derrick and Dranok charged with weapons at the ready at Algalon, who stood calmly waiting for them to come to him, as they drew back their weapons to strike Algalon drew one of his own, a long transparent long sword that shone from within with stars. As they saw this they stopped their attack, but where already within range of the Observer, and took up defensive stances, the Observer swung his sword at the three in a wide arc. Derrick and Joana were thrown back by the force of the strike, but Dranok was killed as he tried in futility to block the strike rather than deflect the brunt of it, his weapon shattered in his hands and his blood flew from his wound and onto the floor.

"Dranok!" shouted Derrick as he watched his friend and rival fall before the feet of the living constellation, rising to his feet quickly to try and avenge him he was stopped by Tyresa with a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned to her and asked with a surprised voice "Marshal?"

"We can't beat him like this, if we do he'll kill us one by one, we have to work together" she said, her voice being carried through the room by an echo, standing next to her was the Tauren Shaman who stretched his shield arm and prepared to fight again.

"Alone we cannot hope to defeat him, no matter how strong you are, but together we are greater than him" stated Mairne, his voice strong and poised, shaking themselves from their stupor they gathered in an eclipse around the Observer and planned to fight him together.

"This does not have to end this way, you can stand down and you can leave peacefully, we do not want to harm you" stated Tyresa

"Your bravery is admirable, for such flawed creatures, but this must be done, and if you fight me you will perish" stated the Observer calmly.

"We'll see"

For a moment there was nothing, then Tyresa, Marine, Joana, Derrick, and Morkal rushed towards the Observer, who in response drew back his weapon across his chest, when they were in range Algalon swung at them with his quantum blades. Mairne and Derrick turned on the blade and blocked it with both their shields, they groaned as their arms protested against the force that they were being used to resist, while the other three charged straight at the unprotected Observer. Seeing the three advances Algalon grabbed hold of his second blade in a reverse grip and swing it in an upward slash, but was stopped when Joana and Morkal slammed it down with both their shields, Algalon was caught off guard by their tactic but didn't show it, it was a mild surprise.

Tyresa leapt up with her sword in a two handed grip and swung at the Observers neck, Algalon calmly stepped back to avoid the strike, as he stepped back his weapon sparked against the shields that had intercept them. Then to his left the Observer saw two bolts of Arcane energy coming towards him, with a simple swing of his sword he destroyed them, but then he jerked forward after he felt an impact on his back, turning he saw the Blood Elf Warlock extending her hand forward, fel energies flowing around her fingers like black and purple smoke.

Algalon was intent on opening a black hole right behind the demonic caster but his gaze was torn from her and to his feet, looking down he saw two circular mechanisms that has blue glowing crystals in the middle of them, a moment later his left leg and his side was engulfed in ice. Even though he was trapped he remained composed and didn't react to it, this is when the five warriors tried to strike again, Algalon swung his quantum blade at them. The Tauren and human male and female ducked under the swing while the second human female and orc blocked the strike, then the Tauren and slammed his shield into the opposite side of the blade, trapping it in a vice. While the human female and male leapt up to strike, Algalon planned to wretch his blade out of the vice but then two frost bolts impacted on his shoulder immobilizing it completely. Looking towards the two warrior's intent of inflicting significant harm on him, which he knew they were capable of he knew he would need to draw on his full power to defeat them, releasing the full force of his power the five warriors were thrown away from Algalon.

As they stood to fight once again they were entrance by the power that seemed to pour out from him, the entire room was filled with light and rays of light shot out of the Observers body, eventually they were in a deep voice filled with stars and the only thing they could see was the platform they standing on.

"See your world through my eyes: A universe so vast as to be immeasurable - incomprehensible even to your greatest minds" said Algalon

"Nice trick" the strained voice of Varro could be heard, he stood up and showed his beaten and bloodied form, his armour dented and crimson from its usual pristine and azure colour. "But that isn't going to save you"

"You mortals and your arrogance, your lives are short, you don't live long enough to know the laws that govern the universe, it is a shame that you live in such ignorance" said Algalon, pointing his blade towards the orc, then above Varro a portal appeared and a crimson meteor flew out and towards the bewildered Death Knight. A moment before impact a flash of blue light enveloped Varro and he disappeared, a massive explosion engulfed the spot were Varro once stood and the heat from the attack could be felt by all, turning they saw the Death knight kneeling next to Annie who was breathing lightly, teleporting two people was difficult without channelling the spell.

"He's gotten stronger" murmured Zul'kal from behind Adria, next to him Beugan nodded while readying an explosive shot for his rifle.

"You sound worried there, Troll, what's wrong? Afraid your arrows won't get through?"

"Please, you aren't the patronising type, that's my job" said Zul'kal, a smirk on his face and a hand on a magic infused arrow.

"Then let's see if your shooting is as good as your wise cracks" said Undead Warlock that teleported behind the two.

"Bite me Gabriel" shot back Zul'kal in a friendly tone to the forsaken

Sefri, Annie, Varro, Magister Puresight and Magus Mira Embersoul prepared to strike against the observer, each preparing a powerful spell to strike against an even more powerful foe

"This guy is not going to go down easy" said Mira, holding her crooked staff in front of her and ready to either strike or teleport away should anything happen.

"True, but just because the task is not easy, does not mean it cannot be accomplished" reasoned the senior magus, calming the younger elf

"Don't be too casual about this one, we may have beaten the watchers but this guy is a whole other level" stated Annie, brandishing her shorter staff in front of her, just as prepared as the blood elf to defend herself.

While behind them was Sefri who was busy healing the fallen Death Knight, Varro growled in frustration as he was nearly beaten a second time, Sefri scowled as the Orc fidgeted and growled, he had been a pain to heal. Every instance where he was injured she would continually have to berate him into not moving, he would ignore and blatantly refuse the priestess aid even when grievously wounded, he was the bane of her very strong threat that was her patience.

"Will you stop moving" she half shouted, the only response was a shallow growl from the death knight.

Mairne, Tyresa, Joana, Derrick and Morkal were busy getting back on their feet and nursing their bruises from Algalon's latest outburst, the energy that blew them away was powerful, comparable to a detonation of a mana bomb. It was lucky that it was only the energy outburst that was similar to it, if it was a real explosion everyone would have been killed, Mairne took up a guard position and analysed the observer. Their fight against him before was hard, they had to put all their effort into fighting him and he was repaying them by fighting half-heartedly, now that he was his full strength this fight had become even more impossible to win.

And now he was using abilities that could easily destroy them, summoning meteors from the sky to obliterate any target he wishes, Mairne knew that Varro would have been easily killed, or at least mortally wounded.

"This guy hits hard" exclaimed Derrick as he lifted himself up from the floor, using his sword to support himself as he did.

"Damn right he does, my arm feels like it's going to fall off" replied Joana, who rubbed her arm to emphasis her point

"Stay focused" commanded Mairne, gaining their attention "He is at the pinnacle of his power now, we must remain composed and ready for anything he throws at us"

Then as they focus on the observer he raised both his arms to his sides

"The stars come to my aid" then from above three bright orbs of light descended and slowly circled around the observer. He slanted his head to the side, where he felt the presence of three hidden enemies planning on striking him from behind, with a single motion of his hand a single orb shot towards what seem like a random location. Then from the darkness emerged Fargren who threw a single dagger towards the star, as soon as the dagger struck the light collapsed in on itself and took the dagger with it, then an explosion engulfed half the room knocking the elf off his feet and revealing both druid who were hiding in the shadows beside him. Fargren struggled to stand; because where the star was destroyed a black portal appeared in its place, shaped like a rip in the air the portal tried to pull everything into it.

While this occurred Algalon did not hesitate in preparing his second attack, he sent the two other orbs to the two groups that flanked him and then rushed towards the warriors ahead of him, Mairne and the rest of his warrior tensed as they fought the Observer head on.

Adria was shocked when she saw the black hole materialise after the star was destroyed, she was more shocked by the amount of energy that exploded from the star when it collapsed in on itself, seeing as a star was coming at her in a similar fashion she didn't hesitate to strike it down before it came to close. A single thrust of her palm and a shadow bolt veered towards the star quickly, both struck one another and disappeared without a trace, before a massive torrent of energy shot out in all directions and a black portal took the stars place shortly after its demise. Adria and the rest of her companions were thrown back by the force of the explosion, she felt the arcane energy wash over her, she was thankful for that she was able to shroud herself in fel energy to negate most of the energy. Lifting herself up she could see Algalon had engaged Mairne and Tyresa's group, they were fighting for their dear lives against his onslaught, but his attacks were not only directed to those closest to him, above she could see a portal open and a searing red sphere descend toward her.

Mairne dodged to the side as the blade stabbed towards him, even as he dodged he could feel the force generated from the movement knock him off balance, then Algalon swung with his other blade towards the two paladins and Morkal, all three were knocked away and landed with a thud and groan. Then from behind Varro leapt up to behead the observer from behind, had he not roared as loud he did when he leapt at his enemy he may have been successful, Algalon turned swiftly and swung with his right blade toward Varro, who blocked the sword with his own. Varro spun mid-air as the quantum blade slid off Armageddon, but Algalon's attack wasn't finished, continuing his turn Algalon brought up his left blade and swung it in a similar fashion as the first, Varro was lucky he was able to bring his blade up to cover the front of his body.

Varro flew through the air and landed with an ear-piercing screech as his armour dragged along the floor, recovering quickly the Orc was back on his feet before he even stopped sliding, then with a roar the Orcs gauntlet was shrouded in dark energy. Around the observer sharp pillars of ice shot up from the ground, long thick chains connect each pillar to one another, as soon as they emerged the chains coiled around the observer, trapping him in thick magic chains.

This was their chance to deal a telling blow against the observer, everyone charged in to attack channelling some of their most powerful spell, and the raw power that was being used in the fight was greater than that used against any of the four watchers.

Mairne unleased the elemental fury within his own weapon and charged, the hammer crackling as the elements wrestled to free themselves, while Morkal channelled the elements around him and intended to deliver the strike from a distance. While the mages built up their energy to deliver a devastating barrage, the warlocks Adria and Gabriel channelled their dark energies and went into metamorphic change intent on using their full power, Rosaria and her fellow druid Elis pooled their energies together to bring down their own stars onto the observer. Tyresa and Joana charged forward swords blazing with holy fire ready to burn away the enemy they strike, everything was ready, all they needed to do was strike, Mairne along with Morkal charged the restrained titan to deliver their own brand of retribution.

Swinging their hammers high they struck dead centre in the back of the observer, a massive explosion of wind and lightning enveloped the room as the strikes landed, Algalon jolted forward from the sudden attack, before he was knocked straight back up from two blazing swords that cut him across the torso. Quickly the four removed themselves from such close proximity to the titan and watched as the casters delivered their own punishment onto the trapped target, arcane bolts shot out in the dozens, stars fell from the heavens, and chaotic bolts sped to their target.

An even larger explosion engulfed the room as both arcane and fel magic crashed into the Observer, everyone shielded their eyes from the light and hold fast as the concussive force tried to dislodge them, the mana used in the attacks was massive. Everyone was breathing a lot heavier than what they were a few moments ago, they had used up much of their mana and in a short time, but the result was not what they intended it to be. Algalon stood in the centre of the room his form unblemished by the raw power that struck him, not a blemish or a cut on his transparent form, they had given it their all and in the end he stood tall and unharmed.

He turned to Mairne and Tyresa who prepared once more to fight one, under the observers harsh gazed they could feel his power begin to build, and with a powerful voice he shouted

"Witness the fury of the Cosmos!"

Then from his body a vast amount of power began to take form, they could see his entire body begin to glow ever brighter, he spread his arms wide and then a moment later it erupted in an explosion of pure mana. The Mages tried to seal themselves within a block of ice, the paladins and shamans tried to shield themselves with their shield and magic, the warlocks could only hope that the metamorphosis held out long enough to take the brunt of the attack, leaving the hunters, warriors and Druids to their own method of survival. Even with their magical defences they could not withstand the force that was sent against them, Morkal shield shattered and was overcome by the force of the explosion, that along with the ice blocks that housed the mages were blown away, sending all away to the wind. Mairne and the paladins held on long enough to only be brought to the ground when the wave of force dissipated, none were left standing, and most were either badly wounded to or were too weak to stand.

Morkal and Joana stood slowly, the Shaman would not allow himself to be brought so low, to arrogant were they to keep themselves down, Morkal turned to the young Paladin who held her sword limply in her hand and her shield arm handing lifelessly by her side. She turned to him and with pain marring her quaint features she was about to asked if he was alright, but before she could he rushed to her and knocked her away, as she flew across the room she had no idea why he did that, and then when she saw Algalon bearing down on him she knew why.

Morkal had pushed the young paladin out of harm's way and now turned to face the observer, Algalon swung his blade from across his chest towards the orc, Morkal brought up his hammer and used it to deflect the strike as best he could. Morkal was able to deflect three more thrusts and swings of the observer's quantum blades, then when the fifth strike came from his right he lifted his hammer to block once more, but his position was not right to parry the attack. As soon as the two weapons clashed the hammers shaft shattered and the blade tore a shallow gash across the orcs chest, Morkal twisted on his feet and onto his knees facing away from Algalon, Morkal didn't have time to stand before a searing pain shot through his chest.

Looking down he could see the blade that he had been trying to defend himself against had impaled itself through his heart, for a moment he felt considerable pain before he started to lose all feeling through his entire body, he raised his hands to the blade in a futile attempt to remove the weapon. But his attempts were not needed, the blade was pulled from his chest and he collapsed to the floor headfirst, the last thing he saw was the young paladin staring back at him. Closing his eye he allowed his body to die, so that his spirit may move on to the next world, he had done his duty and hoped that it would be enough.

Joana looked on in abject horror at the short battle that took place in front of her, the Shaman had saved her and then taken her place, even though she despised the horde, she viewed Morkal as almost an exception, an honourable warrior among savages. Gripping her blade tightly she charged the observer ready to avenge her saviour, she brought her blade down at the observer for him to block it effortlessly, then with his other blade swung at the enraged Paladin, Joana was able to blocked with her shield but her arm finally gave into the constant strain and broke. She flew across the room and towards nothingness, then she was caught by a large figure and both landed with a hard thud and groan/growl, Joana opened her eyes which were squinting at the pain in her arm, she was in the strong arms of a bear. Slowly the beast form shifted to that of Rosaria who lifted herself up with her staff, her body was marred with many cuts and bruises, before offering a hand to the young paladin below her.

She lifted took the hand and was brought to her feet, her arm still searing with pain, she turned to the observer who slowly started to advance on them, then from behind the two woman two black blur rushed past them. Varro and Fangren charged the observer at incredible speed intent, both leapt at the titan as they closed in their weapons raised and poised to strike, but behind the observer silently both Mairne and Tyresa attacked their weapons quaking with power. But the observer noticed this and quickly countered their attacks, with a simple turn Algalon brought up both his blades, the left going to the Orc and Elf in front of him, Varro blocked the attack with his blade and was knocked away, while Fangren twisted around the strike, but was still blown away by the force the swing generated. With his right blade he swing at the Tauren's un shielded side, while Mairne had his hammer ready to strike the observer he was forced to deviate it away to the blade, the hammer and sword clashed and Mairne was forced to bring his shield to bear to relieve the stress that began to build on the blade.

To the observer's surprise his blade was halted, he turned to the Paladin and watched as her blade tore into his back, wincing slightly from the strike Algalon took a step back, Mairne landed to the observer's right while Tyresa passed him and landed to his left. Tyresa leapt away from a downward strike from the Observer, his eyes bowing ever brighter and his face contorted into a less plain expression to a more annoyed one. Mairne leapt away as well as the Observer sent a similar attack toward him, using the wind to distance himself, but was caught by surprise when a massive flaming boulder came rushing at him from above. Mairne could feel the heat of the flaming stone as it drew closer, he had no time to dodge, then he felt energy engulf his body and he was whisked away from the position he previously occupied. Out of the corner his eye he saw a massive infernal explosion, the same spot he occupied before he was where he is now, turning he saw the blood and bruised smug figure of Adria looking back at him.

"Thought I nearly lost you there Shaman, aren't you happy I was there to save you, again" the Blood elf's haughty tone made the High Shaman sigh.

"Thank you, Adria, you intervention was most welcome" replied Mairne, his voice sour and more focused on the task at hand then trivial accomplishments

"Anytime" was her only response, before turning her attention back to the Observer.

"Beware!" shouted Algalon, then the entire room was engulfed in chaos, collapsing stars appeared regularly and flaming comets rained down on them at every moment, they were fighting to the best their ability to defeat the observer and survive his onslaught. Every few seconds a star would descend down towards someone and try and strike them, this occurred when Elis tried to dodge a collapsing star, she was in inadvertently struck from behind by another, the resulting explosion left nothing but her charred staff behind.

The battle raged on blows were dealt and received, some were lost in the battle, Magister Puresight died saving his young apprentice from a flaming comet, Fragren disappeared into a black hole as he tried to escape a collapsing star, which was also sucked into the black portal. Algalon had pushed everyone to their limit, and some to their end, but in turn it was paying off, their struggle had allowed them to deal significant damage to the Observer and they only needed a single well placed strike to end it.

Rosaria was the first to act, with the last of her power she razor thorns and ensnared the observers right arm, Algalon raised his right arm to cut away the irritating hamper but was stopped when his arm was frozen solid by an arrow shot from the pesky troll. Then he sense a large build-up of arcane energy, ahead of him were four magi gathering their power together to strike, with a single harmonious movement the four magi shot out a massive barrage, Algalon was knocked back by the force and had to fight to keep himself from toppling over.

Mairne and Varro led the final charge; behind them were Tyresa and Joana whose blade burned with blazing intensity, Algalon now free from the vines and ice brought back his blades and swung them forward. Mairne and Varro both intercepted the blades and even though the force would knock a mountain giant down they held their ground, Joana and Tyresa charged past them and with all their might struck the observer. Algalon backed away from them quickly before coming to a halt and falling to one knee, they had dealt a mortal blow against him and he was near defeat, but he still had much power to draw on to defeat them.

Algalon raised his hand and three comets appeared and shot towards the groups, everyone scattered to avoid the falling flames, he called down collapsing stars and several more comets, then he saw three of them close together, a perfect target. Turning to strike he was rudely interrupted by the savage orc that seemed to be intent on claiming his head, narrowing his eyes he raised his blade to deal with him.

Zul'kal, Adria and Sefri had wound up together after the comet barrage, Adria had been struck close by a collapsing star and Sefri was healing her.

"Come on, we aint got time to stick around here" shouted Zul'kal sending an arrow towards an approaching star, which detonated and nearly knocked Zul'kal off his feet and Sefri off her knees.

"I know that, but we can't leave her like this" retorted Sefri

Then from above them, Varro was flying towards them, sent their way by Algalon, with a groan and a heavy thud he landed right next to Adria, and with an even loaded growl he lifted himself up.

"He's starting to annoy me" he growled

"Tell me about it" said Zul'kal sending another arrow to another collapsing star, the detonation nearly rocked everyone off their feet. The noise and explosions woke Adria from her sleep and she slowly opened her eyes, at first her vision was blurry then when she could make out the shadowy figures above her she relaxed, then when she saw what was above them she panicked. Several collapsing stars were falling toward them, they all looked up to see what would mean their impending doom; quickly Zul'kal grabbed hold of Adria and pulled her to safety while Varro and Sefri followed closely behind. Then they struck the force knocked them to the ground and then the gravity started to pull them in, they turned to see a larger black hole form and pull them towards it, they all struggled to find a grip on the smooth floor of the realm they were in. Sefri and Adria had been knocked unconscious leaving Varro and Zul'kal to try and keep them from being pulled in, but it was a losing battle slowly they began to inches closer towards it which only increased their difficulty.

Mairne and Joana were struggling themselves to keep away from the black hole that seemed to be pulling everyone towards it, looking over he saw Annie try and close it with one of her spells but getting no results, then from behind he felt a strong presence. Turning her saw Algalon preparing to strike the Shaman and Paladin, Mairne brought up his shield and took the brunt of the attack, but he along with Joana were knocked away, and closer to the portal, Mairne scraped the ground trying to find anything to keep himself from being pulled in. Using his shield he was able to dig enough of it into the floor to stop him from sliding towards the dark portal, then he heard the frantic cries of Joana as she tried to find a similar means as to save herself, Mairne reached out to her.

Joana tried to reach for him, their hands were only an inch apart, but then a star exploded nearby and Joana was thrown from the ground and then sucked into the black portal. Mairne could hear the shocked cry from Tyresa as she saw her former apprentice fall into the blackness and disappear, then Zul'kal, Adria, Sefri and Varro were pulled into the blackness. With another explosion Rosaria was knocked down and then slowly her unconscious body drifted towards the black portal, but as she was drifted Annie teleported to her and tried to rescue the disabled Night Elf, but as she prepared to jump three collapsing star shot towards her. Instinctively raising her hand she sent an arcane missile to one which exploded and the force knocked Annie off her feet and she was thrown into the portal, Rosaria joined her soon after. It had claimed seven lives and would claim the rest if Mairne did not do something, as he watched the portal he saw the two other star strike the dark portal, and from that he saw it, the portal started to dissipate and collapse.

If knew what to do, with his might he lifted himself up and stood tall in face of the forces that tried to take him to the darkness behind him, with a great cry he let out an arc of wind, it shot out and struck everything in its path, though it did nothing. Then all the collapsing stars shot toward him at a fast pace, seven stars came at him intent on annihilating him, Mairne turned to Tyresa who looked on in shock and confusion as to what he was planning. Mairne only sent her a smile and when she saw that and the look in his eye she knew what he was planning, she cried out to her friend, but Mairne pulled his shield from the ground and was pulled into the shadow. Darkness took his vision and he disappeared, as the star followed they struck the portal and as the last one hit the black hole disappeared into nothingness, leaving many onlookers shocked at the Shaman's sacrifice.

Tyresa let out a small tear at the sight of losing her apprentice, a good friend and Mairne, one of the only members of the horde she respected more than most in the Alliance, to lose all three was hard for her to take. Everyone else shared that sentiment and would have broken down and mourned for their loss had they not remembered why they were here, they turned to the source of their grief, Algalon. Who stood immobile and slumped forward slightly, his face never more calm, Tyresa gripped her sword tightly and slowly approached the Observer, Gabriel, Mira, Beugun and Derrick joined her and were eager to obtain vengeance against the one who stole from them their comrades and friends.

Algalon prepared himself, but he could not prepare for the tranquil anger that fuelled the warrior in front of him, in front of him the Mira and Gabriel appeared and shot a stream of arcane energy at him, staggering back slightly Algalon was then struck in the back of the legs by two explosive bullets. He fell to his knees and as he tried to rise his arms were encased in ice one, then the warrior male charged forward and slammed his shield into the Observers stomach, Algalon lurched forward and then as he looked up he saw Tyresa charge him her shield drawn back and her sword burning bright.

Tyresa slammed her shield into the observers jaw and he shot up straight his arms becoming dislodged from the ice, her attack did not end there, Derrick kneeled down and used his shield as a jump point for Tyresa. Leaping onto the shield she was thrown skywards and above the observer, discarding her shield she took her blade in both hands and as she descended he thought about those she had lost to this creature, her mind was filled with anger and her blade glowed ever brighter and with a downward strike she finished off the observer once and for all. For a moment there was nothing, then he fell backward onto the floor, then the room shifted out of the starry nether and to the Celestial Planetarium, they had won.

"We did it" was all Derrick could say, but Tyresa looked over to where they had lost many of their best in this fight, she could help but cry at the loss of so many friends in one day.

As they regrouped together they heard the sound of giant footsteps, as they turned they looked on in shock to see the Observer rise to his feet, battered and beaten he may be but he still stood tall.

"No, we beat him" said Mira, getting into a defensive stance

"Then we beat him again" said Tyresa, her grief being replaced by rage knowing that the one who caused so much sorrow had not yet been defeated.

Algalon looked over to the small group that now faced him, only five of them remained, he was in no condition to fight them, even though they were small in number he had been severely wounded and did not have to power to defeat them all without being destroyed utterly. They were powerful, they had overcome the odds and defeated him, even though they suffered great loss of life they still prevailed, he had seen thing long before he fought against them, against the watchers, their creation and even Yogg'Saron. They have persevered against cosmically calculated odds, how was that possible? Algalon relied on the logic and calculation to determine the course he is to take, it had been the reason he had justified his duty and that of the Titans.

"I have seen worlds bathed in the Makers' flames. Their denizens fading without so much as a whimper" he murmured, to himself more than to anyone else, he had no emotion, yet now he felt lost "Entire planetary systems born and raised in the time that it takes your mortal hearts to beat once, yet all throughout, my own heart, devoid of emotion... of empathy, I... have... felt... nothing! A million, million lives wasted. Had they all held within them your tenacity? Had they all loved life as you do?"

His duty had not been to just this world, but many others, he had carried out this task more than any one person should, he had held to the belief that logic should guide his actions and calculation will determine the best course of action. But his calculation said he would not be defeat here, they were wrong, they had told him to perfom many things that were considered immoral and wrong in the eyes of all, but he condoned it because of logic and his precious calculations. But not these people stand before him proof of his own hubris, they were flawed creatures yet they endure against hardship.

"Perhaps it is your imperfection that which grants you free will. That allows you to persevere against cosmically calculated odds. You prevailed where the Titans' own perfect creations have failed" he said to them, then he raised his hand, everyone took a defensive stance, but to their surprise the hologram disappeared and a pedestal emerged from the centre of the room, on it a platinum disk.

"I've rearranged the reply code. Your planet will be spared. I cannot be certain of my own calculations anymore." He said leaning against the wall, his strength starting to fail him, his belief shaken by what he had learnt from this confrontation

"I lack the strength to transmit the signal. You must hurry. Find a place of power close to the skies" he urged them, Mira rushed over to the Disk and took it from the pedestal

"We have to get this to Dalaran, it's the only place that can transmit something like this" she stated

"What about the Observer?" asked Gabriel

"Do not worry about my fate" he replied, falling to the floor, his voice strained and his glowing body starting to dim "the signal is not transmitted in time re-origination will proceed regardless. Save. Your. World."

* * *

Tyresa arrived in Dalaran several hours after the Observers defeat and with the Platinum disk was able to send the reply code, they had done it, but the victory had come at a great price, they had lost some of the best warriors to the horror that were left behind by the Titans. It had been nearly a week now since the assault on the city, life had returned to the boring tedium it was, a city wide funeral service was held in the honour of those lost; she attended and spoke on those that were lost. The hardest were her three closest friends.

She had returned to the outpost in the Storm Peaks, commanding from a large tent on the side of a mountain, she did not find the tedium all that unbearable but the fact that life had returned to normal so quickly made her heart sink. She would often find herself praying that her friends were alright, she had no idea why, but something told her down in her heart that they were not truly gone; she knew it was foolish to think of such things, but she hoped that the feeling in her heart was true.

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**There's Chapter 04 for you, now I know that it may not look all that fancy, but I am kind of new to this thing, I would like any input on where I can improve as well as any suggestions on my writing style.**

Thanks, Jimmy


	5. Chapter 03: Arrival

**Hello, Chapter 03 is up, took me a while but it is done.**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

* * *

**Chapter 03: Arrival**

**Lothlórien, Galadriel's Chambers**

Looking over the forests of Lorein one would see a nothing but a sea of trees, for miles they stretched on, their thick canopies covering the verdant forest floor below, it was a beautiful sight to look upon. The stars shone brightly, illuminating the sky with intricate patterns and depictions, from famous battles to great heroes long forgotten, and the moon shone through the darkness of the night and irradiated the treetops. For any who look upon it they would be entranced by its natural beauty, for something so grand to be in the world it would be a shame to not see it for first hand rather than through tales and stories. For Galadriel it was a reminder of what she held dear to herself and to what she must protect no matter the cost, for it was her duty along with her husbands to protect this land from all who threaten it, and for millennia they done so, guarding their home and people. She smiled as she looked over the land before her, although the mood she displayed was joyful, her true feeling were nothing of the sort, her smile was but a mask to her true feelings.

For many years now war has been brewing in the west, the lands of Mordor have stirred and dark evils have returned from the past, even now she can feel his power growing; the ancient evil that was thought destroyed over three thousand years ago. Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor, has returned. Slowly he has begun to grow powerful once again, and as his power grows so does the corruption that poisons the very earth itself.

Mirkwood was the first to fall to his evil, for hundreds of years he remained within the forest under the guise of the Necromancer, she and the rest of the white council were to late in stopping the Dark Lord from corrupting the land. Though he was driven from the cursed city of Dol Guldur, his evil still remains there till this day, and now the corruption spreads from the heart of the wilds to the minds of men, slaves from the east and south of Mordor flock to the dark lord feet and pledges themselves to his dark service. He has armies of orcs and men under his sway, as well as other foul creatures that dare not set foot in the light.

There is little hope in these dark times, but she will not back away from her duty to protect this wood, she would fight and die defending her home and realm from the evil of Sauron. But for now she would rest for the night, she turned towards her room and her gaze fell upon the thick blankets of her bed, her smile never left her face but her feeling became true to how she was expressing them. As she reached for the cotton sheets she stopped, her expression changed from tranquil delight to a scowl of confusion, she felt something, a powerful energy that radiated from afar but so strong she could feel its ripples wash over her form. She turned on her heels and rushed back to the balcony and gazed out over the fields of sparkling trees, she ignored the lovely scenery, and focused instead on the origin of the power that overwhelmed her senses. She gazed to every corner of the forest and saw nothing nor could she feel where the presence originated from, she couldn't understand why she could not locate the sourced of the disturbance. A force that powerful would not only be felt by also seen, no matter how weak a spell there was always a physical manifestation of it, but there was nothing she could see where it may originate from, everywhere she looked she felt as if she was moving away from it. How could she it wasn't like it was on top of her, then it occurred to her, her gaze shot to the skies above and towards the source of the force she was feeling.

Far above her home was a large dark ripple in the sky, flowing out it was a swirl of purple energy, it consumed all the light around it and she could feel the raw power that flowed out of the tear like a dam that bad been broken. Although the tear held great power there was nothing to associate it with, it was like it was there and at the same time it was not, she couldn't explain it, the tear held great power but it was completely void.

Then something caught her attention, from it she felt a presence, no, presences, she felt two at first then it doubled and then two more appeared after that and then another and an eighth, and when they all appeared a group of comets shot from the dark portal. Each travelling in random direction across Middle Earth, as she gazed at one she felt the presence of a single being that resided within, she felt raw elemental power within, she saw it fall towards the lost Realm of Arnor. Whatever lie within would likely not be alone in its travels through the land, behind it two more comets fell towards the earth, one towards Eriador and the other in the Misty Mountains, turning she saw the others fall, she gazed towards one that fell to the south west, and into Fangorn Forest. With three more falling toward the south east and into Gondor, but her attention fell onto a single comet that fell further than the others and into Mordor, as she gazed upon it she felt the presence of a creature within. Death; Destruction; Bloodlust; Evil.

She shuddered at the feeling, she had never felt anything like that before, then to the east the final comet fell into Mirkwood, it landed deep into the confines of the cursed forest. What had happened was beyond her knowledge, she could feel the portal begin to collapse and disappear, whatever these being where they held great power. The closest one fell within Mirkwood, she would need to discuss this with her husband and send word to her son in law, even if he did feel the presences he needed to be notified about them all.

She turned on her heels and rushed to the doorway, she needed to inform her husband of what she had witnessed, he would have felt the presence as well and they needed to be prepared for whatever it may be. She may not know if this is the will of the Valar but she knows if they would bring such champions to their aid she would have been told.

* * *

**Mirkwood**

With a great crash and explosion the meteor landed, trees and wild bushes were pushed aside by the force of the impact and scorched by the flames, a ten metre wide pit formed and in the centre lay not a smouldering chunk of stone but a single figure. Slowly the figure rose, the curves of the figures body showing that it was a she, her movement were sluggish and strained, and with her crooked staff she support herself and limped towards the edge of the crater.

Lifting herself up she took a moment she evaluate her injuries, a few bruises and cuts, nothing serious, she used her druidic magic to heal her wounds before moving on. When she looked at her wounds she saw she was fully healed, seeing that she was prepared to leave she exited the crater and into the massive clearing, what she saw made her heart sink. Dozens of trees and plantlife had been destroyed by her arrival; though it may not be her doing she could not help but feel saddened by the devastation caused.

But what troubled her more than the senseless destruction, was the dark and evil feeling that accompanied the wood, she could feel a corruption in this forest, and a dark powerful evil once set foot here and tainted the land. Everything in the wood had been tainted by a foul magic, she could hear the withered cries of the spirits of the forest call out for aid and release from their torment, and she shuddered as she took a step on the tainted grass.

She could feel the evil all around her and sense it attempts to corrupt her flesh and body, but she would not succumb to such things, she has travelled the path of the druid for over a thousand years and she will not be swayed. As she moved away from the crater she explored the woods, she looked at the trees and saw the roots and bark rot and fester, she placed her hand over the bark and with her power she tried to commune with the spirits of the wilds. For a moment there was nothing, only silence, but then she heard a faint whisper, it appeared for a moment before disappearing, then it returned but louder and with more voices. It started to grow, it said horrible things and asked for so much, 'release us' 'save us' 'end out torment' 'free us from the dark one' 'the fiery eye sees all', and she withdrew her hand and stepped back.

This forest has long lost its way, she could feel the centuries of torment and taint that has filled in this land and rotten the trees and spirits to the core, and she was disgusted and angry. How could anyone allow such evil to fester in this place and not try and remove it, placing her hand on the tree once more she focused her power. She sent her energy into the tree through her hands and into the earth at the souls of her feet; she poured everything she had into the tree, as she continued the tree and ground beneath began to change. Dull green leafs became brighter and more vibrant, the grass beneath returned to life and the forest began to heal, she kept pouring more and more of her energy into the trees and earth, but she was forced to stop.

She couldn't keep using her power in such a way, she may be powerful but she had been weakened, her battle with the Observer had drained much of her strength and she has nowhere enough power to heal the entire forest. As she turned to the tree she was healing she saw the state it was in, the tree has been fully healed and cleansed of corruption and the earth around it and surrounding nature had been cleansed as well. She smiled at her work, but she placed her hand on the ground and examined her work, she enjoyed the feeling of fresh grass between her fingertips and was content her work had rejuvenated the area, she was however shocked to feel the corruption working its way back into the wood once more.

Her actions were for naught, she did not have the power to cleanse this place of a corruption that would simply return, she would have to remove it. She started to walk through the woods once more searchy for what may be the cause of this taint, all the while she was thinking on her current situation. She knew she was no longer on Northrend or Azeroth for that matter, as a Druid she has many abilities over nature and that include knowing the very soul of the world she is on, when she travelled from Azeroth to Draenor she felt such a change.

She could definitely say she had been sent to another world in the Greater Dark, but what world, she knew that the Burning Legion had not claimed this world as it was not burning or burnt to ash. She may not know where she is or what awaits her in this world she will carry one with her duty, she was a druid of Ashenvale and she would protect the wilds, no matter if it is her world or not.

As she contemplated she found herself in a massive clearing, the grass was replaced with dry dirt and the stars were blocked out by dark clouds, and in the centre of it all was a massive fortress. It's stones and architecture were dark and twisted, great spires of black rose into the sky only to be illuminated by the red fires that burnt at the peak of several towers, a sense of worry filled Rosaria's heart as she gazed upon the structure, whatever lie within could not be good.

But she would not back down from this, she had no idea where she was, the forest around her was suffering, and the evil she felt from this ruin was the cause of the corruption, it must be destroyed along with whoever rules within its walls. With a deep breath she prepared herself and started to walk towards the dark citadel before her.

* * *

**Dol Guldur, Western Wall**

Muzkak looked over the walls of the Fortress and onto the barren plains of Mirkwood, he spit over the wall, he hated it here, there was nothing to kill, he had come here to fight the elves and all he has been doing is sitting inside the fort and waiting. It has been driving him crazy for months now, ever since the Nazgul left that human Gorothul in charge there has been nothing to do, he thought that without the constant threat of being murdered by that deranged wraith they would have some free time to go out and kill something, but that human was worse.

He along with thousands of orcs and a few caged spiders were stuck in this infernal place for who knows how long, they had been commanded to wait here until they were ready to strike against the forces of Dale and the Wood Elves. But he was tired of waiting, as were all of the others, they wanted to go out and kill something, it was unhealthy for an orc to do something that didn't involve killing, otherwise they would eventually turn on each other.

But as he gazed out over the barren wasteland he caught sight of something, a single figure was walking towards the fortress. He could not tell what the figure was but he knew that if it was an enemy then they would not make into the fortress alive, he turned on his heels and rushed off to speak with Gorothul about the approaching individual.

A few minutes later he was at the doorway leading into Barad Guldur, when he entered he saw a typical sight, the human sorcerer was sitting on his throne like a spoiled king, his legs resting over one arm rail and his hands behind him head, how wonderful for him. Muzkak sneered as he walked forward and stopped a few metres away from the grand sorcerers throne.

"Yes, what is it?" said Gorothul, his voice disinterested in anything that may be happening around him, another reason why Muzkak hated the bastard.

"There is someone approaching the western gate" said the Gate Keeper, this got the humans attention, he whirled on his arse so fast one would think he had hands down there, he was sitting properly on his thrown his hands on the arms rests and leaning forward as if about to leap from the chair at the orc.

"What! why was this not reported sooner?" his voice was no infuriated, even though he was powerful he was easily worried and tended to overreact before he had all the facts "If we are under attack you should have notified me earlier, hell why haven't we heard from our scouts of any approaching army"

"There isn't an army" said Muzkak plainly, making the sorcerers face turn from anger to confusion and from confusion to irritation.

"Then why did you say someone was approaching the western gate?" he said pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning back in his chair.

"Because there is someone approaching the western gate"

"What! Who? How many? What armaments do they have?" shouted Gorothul at the orc gate keeper

"Don't know who it is, but their alone as far as I can tell" said Muzkak

"One?" said the sorcerer, completely mystified that one person was coming towards the fortress. "Well lets see who this person is"

Gorothul rose from his throne and walked over to a black sphere he had on a plinth, he place his hand over it and began chanting, eventually the orb shifted in color and began to glow dimly. Looking into the orb Gorothul looked upon the person who was approaching his fortress, he saw a powerful being, who held immense power and walked without worry of concern to her destination. Her, Her? that caught his attention, the figure was a woman, he could tell from her curves and also from the small opening in her blouse that showed off some of her cleavage she was a woman, then he laughed, she would be little threat to him or this stronghold.

"Well, come on I'm getting impatient here" said Muzkak from the sorcerers side, turning Gorothul saw the 'impatient' orc looking at him, with a sneer he disengaged his connection with the orb and moved back to his throne.

"Its a woman" said Gorothul amused.

"Terrific, so what do you want to do then?"

Gorothul thought it over for a short while, though they could send out some wargs to kill her, but that would be no fun, then he remembered that the orcs have become somewhat restless over the last few weeks and have been demanding to be let out to go kill something. He will never understand these simple minded savages, then it donned on him, he could kill two birds with one stone, he would kill the woman and sate everyone's thirst for blood.

"Go back to the gate, and when she reaches it let her in, also any orc patrolling there are not to attack, understood" said Gorothul, much to the Gate Keepers surprise, when he went to ask why he was interrupted with the answer to his question. "Once she is inside we lure her in a little further and from there we all can have a good game of 'hunting the poor maiden', sound good?"

Muzkak smirked at the idea, the thought about being able to finally get to kill something, even if it is one person, was music to his ears and he would enjoy it with great please. He turned on his feet and made his way to the door, he had his role to play in this game of their and he was going to make sure he was going to play, meanwhile Gorothul brooded and thought with delight, he knew that the woman that was coming here was powerful. he wondered how powerful exactly, so why not send a few orcs at her and see what happens, and if push does come to shove he will send in his executioner to finish her off.

* * *

**Isengard, Pinnacle of Orthanc**

Gandalf sat against one of the stone points that rested at each corner of the pinnacle of Orthanc Tower, he could hear the orcs scurrying below tearing down trees and working loudly beneath the earth making weapons and breeding more of their kind. He had been imprisoned for many weeks now and would continuously be hounded by his former friend and colleague Saruman, he was persistent in his attempts to break him and guide him over to the dark lord's service, but he would not be driven to madness. But he would not be broken, there was to much at stake and too much to lose if the dark lord returns, he had to hold on and make sure the ring does not fall into the darks lords hands.

His thoughts turned to Frodo and how he would not be able to meet him in Bree, he hoped he would be alright, for the Ringwraiths would pursue him no matter where he would go, but he knew not where to go from Bree. If his message is sent in time he may be able to reach him before he reach Bree or while he is there, he may have little chance of escape but he could still hope for the best, he would wait for now and see, wait for an old friend to come and help him.

As he sat there contemplating he was drawn from his thoughts by a strange presence, he looked skyward and saw a single comet falling, as he gazed upon it he saw it land deep within Fangorn forest, there was a low rumble as the comet crashed. Gandalf knew that what he just witnessed was no ordinary comet, he felt something inside the comet, he felt it as it approached and he felt the dark power that churned within as he gazed upon it, he did not like the feeling he received when he looked upon the flaming orb. The world was full of evil to have more of it appear would bring even greater ruin onto all, he just hoped that whatever lay within died in the crash, or if not that it would not be taken under the sway of the dark lord.

* * *

**Inside the Orthanc, Saruman's Chambers**

Inside the dark confines of the black tower Orthanc sat a white robed wizard, his elbow resting against the table and his head resting in its palm, for the past two months he has been tearing the land around his fortress apart. The Orcs and goblins have been working non-stop to build him an army worthy of the Dark Lord, an army stronger than orcs, the Uruk-Hai, with them he would annihilate Rohan and move on the Elves of Lothlórien.

His task had been a great one however, for his actions would not go unnoticed for long, he would need to move quickly least he be caught unprepared and his plan ruined. As he messaged his temple trying to relieve the stress of his work, but his stress was forgotten when he felt it, an unknown presence as invaded his senses. He felt something approaching quickly, he had never felt anything like it before, he could feel the dark power it possessed, and it was magnificent. So powerful it was he rushed towards the small balcony that allowed him to overlook the land around Isengard, he scanned the night sky for a moment before seeing it, a single comet falling from the sky and into Fangorn forest. He smiled to himself, the power he felt was great, perhaps even greater than his own, this creature must be found, its power was unlike anything he had felt before in his long life, if he could harness such power nothing would be able to stand against him.

He turned quickly and went to the exit of the tower, he scaled down the steps quickly but in a composed and regal manner, as soon as he set foot on the ground he was greeted by a group of orcs and goblins.

"What do you wish of us, Lord Saruman?" asked the closest orc, his face sickly green and many metal piercing covered his face.

"There a being in the woods to the east, gather as many warriors as you can, find it and bring it to me, but do so without harming it, I want it alive and unblemished" stated the white bearded Wizard, his voice hard and to the point.

"As you wish" said the Orc, he turned to his fellow orc-folk and started barking orders to them, they each let out a grunt or howl of approval before rushing off to do the task that was set out for them. A few minutes' later dozens of orc and goblins stood at the ready to enter Fangorn forest and find whatever it is the White Wizard wants.

"Get into the forest, find the creature and bring it back, alive, or your innards will be in the next soup" there was a howl of acknowledgement as the Orcs, Goblins and Uruk-hai took off into the woods looking for whatever they were meant to find.

* * *

**Fangorn Forest**

In the middle of the forest a single figure slowly pulled herself from the large crater that devastated the surrounding woods, looking around Adria could faintly see knocked down trees and scorched earth, she grimaced as her entire body ached. She looked to her side and saw a small trickle of blood running down her robes, it was superficial but the pain made it hard for her to move easily, she grasp her side and with her staff in her free hand she slowly limped her way out of the crater and to somewhere safe. Adria had no idea where she was, the forest was not familiar to her, at first she thought she was in Duskwood but threw that out when she noticed that the forest was too lively.

For the next half an hour she travelled through the forest looking for any road or way to get out, but found nothing, she was tired, wounded and wanted nothing more than to lie down and get some rest. She collapsed onto a tree and closed her eyes, 'just a moments rest' she thought to herself 'then I can get out of here', but her moments reprieve was interrupted when she heard loud footsteps closing in towards her. She leans off the tree and peered into the forest, she searched for the source of the noise and is able to see several shadows running between the trees off in multiple directions, there are dozens of them and she has the distinct feeling their after her.

Adria turns on her heels and start limping away; she was in no condition to fight off a horde of creatures, for the next few minutes she is forced to sneak her way through the forest as these creatures search for her. As she is about to pass one large tree she sees a group approaching, quickly she leans herself against the tree and hides, she waits for them to pass and listens as they grunt and chat to one another.

"What are we looking for anyway." said one, it voice was low and wheezy, she grimaced at the irritation of hearing its voice

"Saruman said something about a powerful being, so it must be a person or something." said another, its voice just as bad as the other ones

"Quit your complaining, get out there and find it" said the third; his voice was gruffer than that of its companions.

As she listened she realised these things must be working for someone who could sense her, that means he was either a powerful Mage or Warlock, or something that possesses magical affinity. As she was listening she didn't notice the presence that was slowly walking towards her until a snap of a twig alerted her, she turned to see a hideously ugly humanoid creature rearing back its crude sword. She ducked under the swing easy enough and then she extended her hand forward and a moment later the creature was engulfed in flames, it shrieked and flailed around as it burnt to death. She frowned at her carelessness and turned to see the three creatures she was eavesdropping on had noticed her; they brandished their sword and charged, she narrowed her eyes and raised her staff, with a single thrust a torrent of fel fire emerged from her staff and snaked towards the three creatures.

Moments later they were on the ground trying to put out the flames, but to no avail, their screams and wailing could be heard all across the forest. Then from afar she noticed a group of creatures approaching, their intentions to cut her down rather than take her prisoner, she had no choice now it was either fight or die.

She turned to the fully and fired a single shadow bolt towards the first creature, it slumped to the ground as the dark energy enveloped its body, and then she turned to the other two and fired off another set. Both slumped forward and skidded on the ground, but even before they fell she was assaulted again, to her right and left came ten more of the strange creatures, she realised there were to many and had no choice but to flee. She sent a bold of dark energy towards a single target, it collapsed to its knees but did not die, the creature got back to its feet and charged with its fellow warriors at the Elf.

Taking her chance she started to run away, although she wouldn't be able to get far she had a little plan up her sleeves, as she made her way towards a small gap in the tree line she abruptly turned around. She saw the humanoid creatures tightly packed together and rushing toward her, she smiled her plan was working, then as the orcs were about to pounce on her she disappeared instantly.

"Where did she go" shouted one Goblin, all the others were unable to answer his question, they had no idea what just happened.

"You handsome boys looking for me?" came the sly sarcastic voice from behind, they turned to see the Elf they had been chasing was standing thirty yards away from them with one hand on her waist and the other on her staff.

"There she is get her"

"Uh-uh-uh, you should be more worried for your friend there then me" Adria replied, pointing to someone with the orcs tightly pack group; they turned to see one of the Uruk-Hai had a strange purple glowing shard in his chest that was pulsing. They all turned back to the Elf as she smiled wickedly before saying "Boom"

As soon as she uttered those words a large explosion enveloped the entire group, instead of a bright flash it was a burst of shadow energy that would kill anyone who was caught in it, in fact it looked like it darkened the woods around them as it exploded. With a smirk she approached the downed creatures and examined them more closely, most of them were dead either had been blown apart or were overwhelmed by the dark energy explosion from the seed of corruption. But three were alive, barely, she needed information and she needed it now, but she need more than that she needed to survive, placing her hand near one of the fallen orcs she used her power to siphon the life force from the creature.

Slowly its body began to age and die, in the end all that remained was a dried up lifeless husk, she felt her wounds and injuries heal and disappear, she felt invigorated again, she approached the second and began the same process again. Then she went to the last, who tried futilely to escape, she placed her hand over the creature and as she was about to start the process it called out.

"Stop, don't kill me!"

"Why should I?" she said, her voice cold and full of malice, she looked into the goblins eye with her own glowing green.

"I... I'll do anything, please don't kill me." pleased the pathetic creature

"Where am I?" she asked, she might as well get some info from the creature before she kills it.

"Fangorn Forest, a few miles from Isengard."

"Fangorn Forest? Isengard?" Adria repeated, she had no idea where she was, both those names did not ring any bells at all and she been all over the Eastern Kingdom and much of Kalimdor and never been in a place like this.

"This Isengard where is it?" she demanded from the creature

"To the west, it's to the we…" he stopped as he heard heavy footsteps in the distance and animalistic shouting, he then turned to the elf above him and smiled devilishly "Looks like you're in trouble now."

Adria narrowed her eyes; she placed her hand on the creature's throat and drained its life force quickly, when all that remained was a small bit of its existence she grinned evilly to the monster. She placed her hand on his chest and then directed a large amount of energy into the beast's chest, the goblin thrashed around as it felt it's inside burn and its blood boil. She lifted herself up and jogged away from the screaming and writhing goblin, for a few minutes nothing happened, then a massive explosion of fire erupted from the spot where she had left the creature.

She placed inside the creature's chest a small soul shard, instead of having a soul trapped within she placed inside a very potent Hellfire spell, when the goblin eventually died it would let out a massive explosion of fire killing all around it. Even if his screaming didn't attract them there, the fiery explosion for sure and she would in theory be better off, she had to reach this Isengard quickly if she wanted to know where she was, but there was something bothering her as she travelled through the forest.

She couldn't feel any lay line energy; even though lay lines only run through certain areas there was still a residual discharge of mana from lay lines that flow across all of Azeroth. Even if she was miles away from a lay line she should be able to feel the energy, but here she could barely feel the magical energy in the air around her and her connection to the twisted nether is also none existent, she couldn't feel its energy passing around or through this world. As she kept moving she had a distinct feeling that she was no longer on Azeroth anymore.

* * *

**Rivendell, Elrond Study**

Lord Elrond of Rivendell sat behind his desk, mentally fatigued from the stressing matters that have been drawing his attention, he looked over a letter sent to him from the Elves of Mirkwood. They have grown worried over the increasing number of orcs in their former homeland, they say that the humans and dwarves of Dale are planning an offensive on Dol Guldur, he has asked for both his and the elves of Lorein assistance. But his reply was one that the ruler of Mirkwood never expected, Lord Elrond has asked for assistance, even though he knew not how the King of Mirkwood reacted he would have expected him to be outraged, but it would seem his reason for assistance was valid. for another letter had been sent saying he would be sending his son Legolas. He had been organizing many things over the last few weeks, the arrival of the 'Hobbit' that holds the 'One Ring' was one such item of interest, for centuries the ring of power has been lost and now it has resurface. And as it has returned so too has the Dark Lord, he has returned to the world of man, though he has not return to physical form his spirit still lingers on the mortal plain, for some time he has been gathering his strength in preparation to conquer middle earth.

As he mulled over the development he was caught off guard when he felt a powerful presence, at first he thought it was his nerves playing tricks on him, but he was proven wrong when he felt another presence. He rushed outside to look to the stars to see two comets falling from the sky towards the west, as he looked upon them both he felt power radiating within the fiery shell, great power, power that may even be greater than that of the Istari. Both were well out of his reach, one fell to the forgotten lands of Arnor, while the other fell deep within Eriedor, but there was a third, it fell to the north, in the Misty mountains. Though he could not sense powerful magic within the being that resided within the comet he could not allow something like this be disregarded and not investigated, he called for his two best warriors, his twin sons Elladan and Elrohir.

"Father" they said in unison of one another

"My sons, I suspect you felt the presence as well?" asked Elrond his voice serious on the matter

"Yes Father, we felt the power" Elladan spoke

"I am sending you to investigate this presence, you will take with you as many men as you require, the comet fell to the North in the Misty Mountains, on Mount Gundabad, make haste for the orcs will have noticed it arrival as well."

"What of the other two?" asked Elrohir

"They are too far beyond our reach, find this one and we may discover what the others are" he replied to his sons.

"Yes father" they both replied in unison, before leaving to gather up as many men as they could to find the creature that fell in the mountains.

Fifteen minutes later Elladan and Elrohir were ready along with ten other archers and trackers, they were going deep into enemy territory to find a single person and they needed to be able to fight through large numbers and strong opponents.

With a single farewell nod from Elrond both his sons replied in kind and took off out the gate, the ten archers following close behind, Elrond hoped whatever has appeared is not here to aid in the destruction of the world. A single grain can tip the scales in either direction, as was the situation now, if what appeared was a new threat it could mean the assured end of middle earth, but if it was a potential ally then they may have a chance.

* * *

**Misty Mountains,** **Mount Gundabad, Western Cliff Face**

With a loud groan Zul'kal sat up, his entire body felt rigid and when he was able to move he felt intense pain shoot through his entire form, he looked at his arm and saw it twisted at an odd angle. Closing his eyes he focused on calling on his animal aspects to aid him, a moment later his eyes shot open and were replaced with reptilian eyes, the Aspect of the Viper was a useful ability, it allowed him to reset broken bones and heal much more quickly. For what seemed like an hour he remained in the pit as his bones slowly reset, using his natural regenerative abilities along with that of the viper aspect, eventually he lifted himself up with no ill effects.

He examined his arm, his arm was still stiff but the bone had been reset back into place and was healing nicely, with a grin he looked to his surrounding and saw a thin sheet of snow had covered the grater, 'Must have landed somewhere in the Storm Peaks' he thought. He walked over to the edge of the crater and lifted himself out; he was mildly surprised at what he saw, instead of seeing more mountains or fields of snow he saw the mountain lead down to a heavily forested plain. It was miles from where he was but he could see it as far as the eye could see, he turned to his right and saw the mountain move off far into the distance before shooting off to the west and looking to his left they went on further than he could see. He lifted himself out of the crater and moved to the edge of a small hill and peered down the mountain, it descended for many miles; it would take him nearly a day to reach the bottom.

"Where the hell, am I?" he said, more to himself than to anyone who may be listening

As he focused on the land before him, his attention was taken away when he heard a heavy thud behind him, he turned quickly just to be struck in the chest by a massive maul, he felt a rib or two crack and the wind being knocked out of his lungs. The only sight he saw was a massive pale green skinned ogre like creature, holding a massive tree trunk as its weapon, Zul'kal was lucky the weapon wasn't a spear or sword he would have been killed instantly.

He landed with a hard thud before he continued to roll down the side of the mountain, he felt himself go rigid again as his body banged against the rocks and stones that jutted out of the snow, and he stopped himself easily and was panting and clenching his chest in pain. He turned his head to see the same creature that attacked him earlier was now running down the hill towards him, holding the tree above its head like a massive mallet, Zul'kal rolled forward as the strike came down. He drew a small dagger from his side and threw it at troll; the cobalt blade dug itself into the beast neck, with a roar of pain the beast last out with his massive 'mallet' Zul'kal narrowly dodged the weapon.

'The poison should slow it down' he though 'but I need to wait for it to work' a moment later the 'mallet' came veering towards him, using his superior reflexes he back-flipped over the attack and landed without a fuss. As the ogre swung the 'mallet' it lost balance and stumbled away, it straightened itself up and shook its head trying to clear it head, the poisoned dagger was starting to take effect, but when he roared again and took another swing Zul'kal knew that he needed to take it down more personally than just waiting.

He ducked under the swing and then charged at the stubborn creature, he rolled between the hulking beasts legs, as it looked down between it legs Zul'kal threw a dagger right into its eye, with a roar it straightened up and tried to removing the violent weapon from its socket. Zul'kal drew two more dagger one in both hands and sunk them into the ogres back, it jolted forward from the new sudden pain that enveloped it form, then using said daggers he climbed up the ogre's back quickly. Standing on the creatures shoulders he drew his bow and a Saronite tipped arrow, he aimed in the centre of its skull and let the arrow loose, a second later the arrow was tightly lodged in the beast's brain.

Its wavered for a few seconds before falling into the snow, Zul'kal leapt off just as it fell, rolling as he landed and drawing another bow as he turned to face the ogre, he was not going to throw precaution to the wind just because it had an arrow in its brain. After a moment he saw no movement in the ogre, he got up from his knee and placed his arrow back into his quiver and put away his bow, he had never see anything like it before, slowly walking over to it he examined the 'ogre's' physical traits. Large head with a thick neck, large tusks, scaly skin, if Zul'kal didn't know any better he would say this thing was something like a Dire Troll, a larger more muscular cousin of the troll race.

But by the look of it, it was either more mutated than a dire troll or was something else entirely, which raised the question where was he, he didn't know the landscape or the creature he was currently leaning over. As his heart started to settle and the adrenaline die down he could feel the pain in his chest return, yes, he definitely had two broken ribs, he lifted himself up and calmly breathed in and out, the ribs hadn't pierced his lungs. he planned to stay on the mountain and wait till morning for his wounds to heal then he would depart for the forest and find out where he was.

But his plan was all but ruined as he look back up towards the hill he had fallen from, he was shocked to at what he saw, what could only be described as an army of creatures that would resemble when you crossbreed an orc with a goblin. There were dozens of them standing on the hill looking down and howling at him, alongside them were more of the hideous beasts similar to the one he just killed.

Then with a roar they charged down the mountain and towards him, raising their axes and cleaver or whatever sort of weapon they had on them, in all this Zul'kal wasn't scared, with only a plain voice he said aloud.

"Great, I'll be up all night killing these things"

* * *

**Arnor, North Downs, Kingsfell**

A quaking earth and a storm of fire, that is what followed when the comet struck the northern most part of the North Downs, for all around most though it was a simple comet falling from the sky. But kneeling inside the crater was something else entirely, a figure that stood over eight and a half feet tall covered in thick metal armour with two pauldrons that housed an intense flame. He stood slowly, taking in a deep breath before exhaling with a sigh of relief; he looked around to see himself stuck in a smouldering crater. He looked down to see his shield still firmly attached to his arm and his hammer still in hand, 'good' Mairne thought, he was in unfamiliar territory and if he had no weapons he would be at a disadvantage.

He approached the crater wall and pulled himself out, he looked around to find himself in splendid grassland of fields and farms, and even though it was dark he could still see the land through from the light of moon. As he moved out he could see in the distance a small farmstead in the middle of the field, he had no choice but to approach and hope to find a friendly face, but as he drew closer he saw that it was unlikely to be so.

He saw a single human tending to the cattle in a small fenced off paddock, with him he had a sword and bow arrow on him, he may be just a farmer but he would defend his home and likely flock with his life. Mairne approached slowly, not wanting to cause any trouble, as he neared the fence he stopped and kept his distance from the human.

"Hello" said Mairne, keeping his voice as calm and civil as he could, the human whirled on his feet and reached for his sword by when he saw the Tauren he instantly froze. "Human, I wish to know where I am, can you tell me?"

Instead of answering the man drew his sword and held it in a two handed grip in front of him, Mairne did not react to his show of aggression and simply asked again.

"Please, can you tell me where I am?"

"Keep away from my cattle monster" the Human replied with a growl, Mairne however was unaffected by the humans attempt to intimidate him.

"I have no intention to harm your cattle, I wish only to know where I am" Mairne replied

"I bet you're with those orcs, trying to attack the farm and slaughter our cattle"

"Orcs? There are orcs here? If that is so them may you direct their location to me" asked the High Shaman

"So what? You can get some help, not going to happen." he said rushing at Mairne his sword held above his head, Mairne simply raised an eyebrow at the human's reckless behavior, as the Human brought down his sword Mairne caught it with his gauntleted hand. Even if his armour wasn't made out of Titansteel the sword still wouldn't have cut through, the blade was rusted and miserably blunt, it would make a better club than an actual sword.

The human was caught off guard by the Tauren's counter, Mairne placed his hand on the human's chest and pushed him back, and losing his sword he stumbled backward a few metres. As he regained his balance Mairne threw his weapon back to him, caught off guard by the sudden throw the human stumbled to catch his weapon, but when he straightened up he returned to his previous stance and waited.

"I have no interest in fighting you, I only wish to know where I am, so please tell me where I am or at least tell me where I can find that information" replied Mairne with a chuckle, the human was a little caught off guard by the creature that stood in front of him, true he had not attacked him but he couldn't just go and tell it where a town or village was, innocent lives could be put at risk, it could be working with the orcs.

But before he could speak his rebuttal he was stopped when an arrow flew past his face and landed in the mud nearby, he turned to see a goblin archer along with several orcs were rushing towards the farm. Under the cover of darkness and because of that creatures presence he was caught off guard, how could he have been so stupid, he drew his sword and was about to charge when he saw the creature pull out a massive shield and an equally large hammer. The hammer had a large ornate triangular head with three glowing blue sapphires in each corner and a single larger one in the centre; on its side were two faces which released a cloud of blue fog. While the shield resembled a massive silver and gold face with a semi-circular crown with many glowing orbs, the weapon and shield were beautiful and it was perplexing that a creature such as him carried such relics.

Mairne saw eight of them on the hill, two archers, five swordsmen, and a large axe wielding creature, they should be simple enough, Mairne charged forward ready to meet them head on. As he drew closer he started to make out appearance through the darkness, they looked like orcs, severely deformed orcs but orcs none the less. The leading orc, wielding a massive two handed axe and chainmail with plated armour, raised its axe high to strike, as it brought it down Mairne raised his shield over his head and blocked the strike easily. Then with his hammer he jabbed it forward and into the orcs exposed chest, it was thrown off its feet and into two more orcs behind it, regaining his stance Mairne raised his shield to intercept two arrows sent at him.

Another orc tried to attack, as it swung it sword Mairne jabbed his shield at the sword and knocking it away, then he swung the shield at the orcs head sending it staggering away, dazed, Mairne delivered the finishing blow, his hammer made contact with its head and obliterated its skull. Brain matter and skull fragments were all that was left, raising his shield again to block another arrow he saw an orc attempt to attack his from behind. Mairne turned on his hooves and delivered a powerful strike to the orcs side as he raised his sword, half of the orc's chest caved in and was dead long before he hit the ground. Mairne turned to the two archers that readied their arrows, pointing his hammer towards them a bolt of lightning shot forth and struck the two beasts, their flesh burned and their body's spasm as the electricity coursed through them.

A moment later they collapsed to the ground their flesh cooked, the rest of the orcs were a little more hesitant about attacking now, but Mairne did not stop in his attack, he moved forward. The three remaining orcs readied themselves for anything, but they could not hope to survive a burst of fire, their bodies were engulfed in flame and they screamed and ran about trying to put out the flames. Mairne took mercy on the beasts and with a few swings of his hammer they were all dead, their bodies still burning from the elemental fire that housed itself in his pauldrons, turning away from the beast he walked back to the farmstead.

Standing there completely shocked was the young Human, his sword still held out in front of him and his jaw hanging slack; Mairne approached the human keeping his distance and sheathing his weapon and shield.

"Now, can you tell me where I am?" he asked calmly as if nothing had happened.

* * *

**Evendim, Dwaling, Western shore of Brandywine River**

Silence, that was all she could hear, there was no sound from the animals, no wind to blow the leave, no ripples in the water, it was silent and that is how she liked it. For many weeks now she, Galthoniel, a ranger of the North, has kept watch over the Brandywine River, making sure nothing crosses it and enters the shire; her duty was to make sure the shire is not invaded. She has not seen any activity try and enter the shire but she must not become complacent and allow her guard down, she was a ranger and she would not allow herself to become lax when anything could happen.

For most of the night as any other she would keep watch over the river and look for any disturbances, whether they are the rustling of branches or a change in the wind, she would keep her eyes set on that what was ahead of her. But as she kept looking she noticed something, an odd shift in the breeze, she scanned the woods for any signs of hidden assailants, but did not see anything. The breeze picked up again and the air was warmer than normal, something was definitely wrong, she lifted herself up and drew an arrow and readied herself.

For the next few moments there was nothing, the breeze still remained and the temperature was steadily increasing, but then her gaze was directed upward when a sudden increase in light drew her attention. Falling from the sky was a large white fireball; it was coming down at a steep angle and was going to land close to her position, a few second later it crashed into the river. A massive wave of water was dispersed from the river any onto the surrounding river bank, Galthoniel was knocked off her feet by the small quake that accompanied the impact and then soaked.

The water that wasn't thrown out of the river quickly formed a large wave and travel up and down stream; it would likely go on for miles before it dissipated. She lifted herself up long enough to see the body of water travel up the river quickly and to see the river had sunk a few feet, from the point of impact of the comet small bubbles flowed to the surface of the water. Slowly she approached the river bank, which use to be under water, the bubbles began to become more numerous and rose faster, she stepped back cautiously and raised her bow.

Then a moment later the water erupted into a massive geyser, the water shot up into the air twenty feet, buts as it began to fall the water snap froze. Looking down from the massive ice pillars she saw the entire lake bed had been frozen over, the entire surface of the water had been covered in a thick layer of ice. She looked at the origin of the geyser and saw seven pillars of ice shooting up into the sky, but in the middle of the pillars was a person.

From what Galthoniel could tell the figure was small, possibly a hobbit, and wore strange brown clothing, intricate patterns were lines across its surface and in the centre of the persons chest and stomach was a picture of a golden eye. In her hand was a staff, a long azure blue staff that stood nearly twice as tall as she was, the head piece was a crooked metal that finished with a dragons head, along the spine of the metal was two jagged barbs. The metal gave off a dull blue glow, from it she could definitely see that the staff possess immense power, it was likely what she used to freeze the river.

The kneeling form slowly stood up, she was unsteady and fell from side to side as she tried to straighten up, Galthoniel raised her bow to the unknown creature. Then Galadriel saw the face of the person, a young woman, she looked almost like a little girl, she was momentarily taken aback but shook herself free from her stupor and kept her arrow on the person ahead her.

Annie slowly stood, her entire body ached with pain and fatigue, every fibre of her being wanted herself to fall asleep and rest, but after waking up underwater the last thing she needed to do was go to sleep. Using her staff as a support she looked around to see if she could find out where she was, ahead of her was a woman near the shoreline, with a bow, pointing right at her.

"Ahhh, wait don't shoot!" she shouted at the woman, waving her hands around trying to calm her down, but she must have appeared aggressive because the woman let loose her arrow. Annie had only a split second to use her blink ability to escape, she teleported to the shoreline and away from the aggressive woman.

"What is wrong with you? You could have killed me!" she shouted at the ranger woman, who in shock turned to her left to see the little sorcerer standing a few metres from her. She drew another arrow and aimed it at the little woman, when she hit nothing but air Galthoniel instinctively turned around and drew another arrow. Standing there looking at her questionably was the girl, she had a stern expression on her face and her hands were crackling with purple energy.

"Enough of this! Put down you weapon!" shouted Annie

Instead of replying she let lose her arrow, Annie scowled in frustration and with her power created a wall of pure ice, and then with a gesture from her staff the ice blew outwards and towards the ranger. Slightly caught off guard, the ranger leapt out of the way as large chunks of ice flew at her, but she could not dodge them all as one large piece struck her in the stomach. Grimacing slightly she stood up, looking over to her attacker she saw the sorcerer was standing there passively, drawing a bow she quickly fired it off, the arrow flew barely a centimetre past the girls head. She didn't even blink as it travelled past, she knew the arrow wasn't going to hit her so why bother dodging, she wasn't dealing with a child, this was something else entirely, instead of attacking again she would need to figure out who she was dealing with.

"What are you?" demanded Galthoniel, the sorcerer let out a sigh of relief; she was obviously relieved that they were going to have a civil conversation now.

"Geez, took you long enough to calm down" her voice was childish and squeaky "I am a Magi"

"Magi?" murmured Galthoniel, that would mean she was some kind of wizard, to be able to perform magic was a gift, that means it wasn't the staff that was enchanted it was her, but there was no way she could prove her statement, not here at least. "So you say you're a Wizard, can you prove it?"

"What?" said Annie, her voice contorted in complete confusion, she had just shown her what she could do and she wanted more proof "I just showed you my power, what more do you need?"

"You used your staff, there are many magical objects in the world that grant great power and abilities, show me what you can do without it" this was her chance, if she relinquished her staff then she should be pretty much powerless without it, even if she was a mage she needed the staff the focus her powers.

"Okay, I guess" said Annie as she placed her staff on the ground, as soon as the staff was on the ground and Annie had straightened up, Golthoniel struck, she wouldn't kill her but wound her, she pulled out an arrow, but before she could do anything something happened. A puff of smoke covered her vision and the next thing she knew she hit the ground hard, looking up she saw the gnome standing there with a smug look on her face. She tried to reach for her bow but she couldn't feel her fingers, or toes, although she felt completely abnormal right now, she tried to scream out at the sorcerer and all she heard was 'Bah~'. It was then that Annie walked up towards her staff in hand; she had an amused smile on her face, she created a mirror and put it in front of her.

What she saw completely horrified her, she was a sheep, and she had been turned into a sheep, she tried to scream but all that was heard was 'Bah~ Bah~ Bah~', the sorceress just laughed at her plight.

"Don't worry, you're going to be fine, it's only temporary" replied Annie, with a smile on her face. A moment later and Galthoniel had returned to her original form, she checked to see if she was in any way still an animal in one form or the other and was relieved to see she was fully human.

"So you are a mage" she said, to which Annie nodded, she turned to look to her bow and wondered if she could reach for it.

"Please" said Annie softly, Galthoniel looked to the young magi and could see the worry and apprehension in her "I don't want to fight you, you're not my enemy, please"

For a moment both did nothing but stare at each other, Galthoniel was wondering if she could draw her hidden dagger and stab her, but she couldn't, the Magi hadn't caused her any real harm and she was convince in the girl sincerity over not wanting to fight.

Galthoniel rose to her feet and slowly retrieved her bow, looking from it to the Magi, who was looking a little worried over what may happen in the next few moment, and she placed the bow around her shoulder. She kneeled down in front of the magi and extended her hand to her.

"My name is Galthoniel, Ranger of Eriador"

Annie smiled and shook the ranger's hand.

"Annie Froststorm, Archmage of the Kirin Tor"

* * *

**Rohan, outside a nearby village in Westemnet **

"Freda" cried the young man as he searched for his younger sister, he had been looking for the last hour and couldn't find her, it was well past supper and he hasn't been able to find her, his mother was angry that he let her wonder off "Freda, where are you?"

He searched for a while but when he caught sight of a shooting star he stopped to watch it, he marvelled at the splendid white trail it left behind as it soared off in the distance, but the object didn't look like a normal shooting star. For a moment he saw it fall and fall further, eventually he saw it disappear into Fangorn forest, and with a loud thud and small quake he realised that it impacted the earth, it was a meteorite. Then his attention was drawn to another star that was falling overhead, it was coming down quickly and then a moment later it impacted into the earth, he didn't see it impact but he felt the earth quake. He rushed over to the hill it landed behind, he could see smoke rising into the sky and as he looked over he saw it, a large ten metre wide crater, with small pockets of fire jutting across the smouldered surface.

As he looked closely he saw someone standing near the edge of the crater, he looked closer and saw a little girl there, a little younger than he was, he then realised who it was it was Freda, he rushed down the hill to see if his sister was alright.

_Moments ago_

Freda was sitting at the base of the hill looking up at the stars; she would come here to play and found it peaceful and allowed her to get away from her annoying brother. She could hear him calling for her, but she ignored it she wanted to watch the starts, she hoped she would see a shooting star so she could make a wish.

As she gazed up she saw one falling off in the distance, a white trail flowing behind it as it appeared to be descending to the earth, she closed her eyes and made a wish, and then she opened her eyes. To her surprise she could still see it, most shooting stars only stay for a moment of a few second at most, then as it kept descending she saw it against the backdrop of the Misty Mountains, then she realised it wasn't a falling star but a comet.

A second later it disappeared and then a small quake was felt beneath her, as she looked onward to where the comet fell she did not see the star that was falling until the area she was in was illuminated by the flaming sphere. As she looked up she saw a massive comet falling, a second later it struck the ground forty metres ahead of her, she was knocked onto her back by the sheer force of impact, she quickly sat up to see a large crater ahead of her. She then quickly got to her feet and ran towards it, as she drew closer she could feel the intense heat that accompanied the fireball, she slowed her pace as not to burn herself by any of the random smouldering fires.

As she reached the edge she peered down into the crater, what she saw she could only describe as an angel, laying prone in the centre of the crater a woman in silver and golden armour. She had long blonde hair that flowed freely and created a heavenly halo behind her head, her face was beautiful and without blemish, as she stared she did not hear her brothers cries as he rush over to her.

Even when he touched her on the shoulder and shook her she was not taken out of her trance, when her brother Éothain did not get a response he peered into the crater, and like his younger sister he was shocked at what he saw. For a moment longer they stood there gazing into the crater, it was when a few villagers appeared that they were broken from the spell they were under.

Freda! Eothain! Where have you…" she started, but when she saw the woman lying prone in the crater she middle of the crater she stopped, she didn't know why but when she looked at the woman she felt the anger and frustration wash away.

"What is this" murmured a villager, along with many others their gaze was fixed upon the woman who lay within the crater below, they weren't entrance with what they saw but the feeling and sensation they received by looking upon her. It was only when she started to move and groan quietly that they realised that the woman was alive.

"She's Alive!" exclaimed a woman

"We have to get her back to the village!" shouted another

"Help me get her out!" said one who started descending into the crater, followed shortly by five others.

"Eomir, go back to the village and get the doctor!" shouted another

Slowly the villagers lifted her up and carried her out of the crater, with her were an elegent sword and a large magical shield, both of which didn't look like a woman even of her calibre could wield.

"Where did she come from" asked Aldrif, Freda and Eothain's mother, when she turned to her daughter she pointed to the sky and said.

"From the sky"

* * *

**Gondor, River Anduin, Cair Andros**

Sefri pulled herself free of the crater, she had landed on a small island in the middle of a river, and she slowly lifted herself up to look upon a large ruined fort ahead of her. She slowly approached hoping to find some shelter and heal her wounds, as she entered through the stone archway she peered around looking for any hostile entities that may have taken up residence in the ruined fortress. For the moment she was safe, relaxing for the moment she looked for a place to rest, a large tower caught her attention, it had a good vantage point and was mostly intact, if anything happens she can easily escape.

A few minutes later she was on the top floor of the tower, she leaned her staff against the wall before sitting next to the window, she let out a pent up breath before she focused on healing herself, and using her holy powers she began to heal her injuries. For the next few minutes she felt the holy light course through her form and give her relief and comfort, but unbeknownst to her a large group of archers and soldiers have been watching her since her arrival.

"Captain" Said one of his soldiers, drawing the commander away from his post to his subordinate "Should we have allowed this woman to enter the camp? We have no idea what she is, she fell from the sky she may be a demon or servant of Mordor."

"Maybe, but for now let us see what she is capable of" said the Captain; he turned to one of his hooded rangers "Where are the orcs now?"

"They are coming from the east, they will be here in less than an hour" he replied

"Good we will see if this 'Dwarf' is an ally or an enemy" replied the Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien, Faramir.

For the next hour Sefri had rested inside the tower, she tried her best to keep awake but she had been through much before her arrival here in this unknown land. It was hard for her to call upon the holy light in this place, though she still could feel it, it was diminished, and it was harder for her to use it and took longer for her to perform her most simplest of chant. Wherever she was her connection to the light had been diminished, not even when she was in outland was her powers this drained, as time went on worry began to sink into her stomach that she may not be on Azeroth anymore.

'Where am I?' she thought, slowly closing her eyes to drift into the dreaming world

Her thoughts and tiredness were cast aside when she heard a ruckus outside, while her worry grew as she saw what caused it, from what she could see the tower was surrounded by orcs. By the looks of it Dragonmaw orcs, their skin was dark but they were slightly malformed, her worry about being in another world was set aside now with worry she had to deal with Dragonmaw orcs. They have been a bane in the side of the Ironforge Dwarves for decades, and by the looks of it there were close to thirty of them down there were she any other dwarf she would charge down there and kill them all. But she was a priest. A discipline priest to be more specific, true she could keep herself alive and anyone else if she wanted to but she could hope to survive against so many let alone kill them all before they did her in so to speak.

She needed to escape but doing so could not be done without alerting the orcs to her presence, she could try and wait them out, but that would risk them finding her up in the tower and then she wouldn't have the element of surprise if she needed to fight or escape. Her options were slim to none at this point, she could run and maybe escape or she could fight and possibly get slaughtered or wait and hope for the best. Her thoughts were directed away from the window and to the trap door, turning she saw a single orc lift himself out of the entryway and rush at her, she reached for her staff and aimed it at the orc, as it was about to pounce on her a bolt of holy light shot out of the staff.

The orc was thrown across the room and through what was left of the stone wall, it fell screaming to the ground before being silence with a hard thud, Sefri rushed over to see the orcs looking down at their fallen comrade before pointing to the tower.

"Someone's up there!" one screamed

"Let's kill them!" screamed another

'Damn it!' thought Sefri, she was now between a rock and a hard place, she needed to think of a plan, she may be a Disciple priest but she has studied in all the arts of the Priest. As she heard the orcs running up the stairs of the tower she willed herself to think of a plan, if she ran she would only delay her capture at most, she needed to take at least some of them out. Then it came to her, as she heard them climbing the ladder she cast a spell.

A moment later an orc burst through the trap door, one by one the beast poured into the small room at the top of the tower, three partial walls remained and most of the roof but no one else besides them was inside. The scurried around like headless chickens looking for what could have thrown their compatriot out of the tower, they could see a thing, they were about to go back down when they saw a floating dwarf outside the window. She was standing on a small wooden post jutting out of the tower, she looked at the orcs with a kind smile on her face, and they were completely bewildered at what they were looking at.

"Have you come to pray?" she asked, they all looked at her and each other with complete confusion before they drew their axes and started to advance on the window, she lost her kind smile with a disappointed frown and said "Such a shame."

She pointed staff at one of the orcs and then an explosion of dark energy enveloped the entire top of the tower, the eight orcs were blown from the tower which started to collapse; Sefri leapt form the wooden post and towards the ground. Slowly she glided down to the earth below, using her levitation spell to slow her descent, all the while the tower behind her was starting to collapse toward her, as she landed she looked back to see the tower teetering towards her along with several orcs.

She simply stood her ground with staff in hand and as both the falling tower and the orc drew close she created a shield of pure light and surrounded herself with it, a moment later the tower collapsed on top of her.

Faramer along with his rangers were shocked at the display of power the dwarf was capable of, she would have to be a powerful wizard or sorcerer to pull of feats that they had just witnessed. Faramir along with the rest of him men left their hiding places and into the courtyard where the tower fell, stone and mortar covered the cold ground below their feet, a few orc had survived the collapse of the building. They were dealt with quickly enough, but the dwarf was another question, before the tower fell onto her she was enveloped in a strange golden light.

"Search for the dwarf, she may have survived" said Faramir, though he didn't believe anyone could actually hope to…

Before the men could carry out their captain's orders a massive explosion of light enveloped their vision, everyone was blinded by the intense light and shielded their eyes, as the light died down they looked to where the explosion occurred. Standing there with staff in hand was the dwarf, completely unharmed by the fallen tower, where she stood a large circle of debris had been cast away.

"I take it your in charge here?" Sefri said with a smile, she extrended her free hand forward to the surprised captain and continued "Hello, my name is Sefri Anvilheart"

Faramir was a little taken aback by the woman's kind and gentle manner; hesitantly he took the dwarfs hand and shook it firmly.

"It is… a pleasure to meet you"

"Thank you, I don't mean to be unkind but maybe we should go somewhere a little less hostile" she suggested, not losing her warm smile or kind voice

"Yes, of course follow me, I'll take you to Osgiliath and then to Minas Tirith, we have a lot to discuss" replied the Captain leading Sefri out of the fortress. All the while in her mind she was playing on the words she just told him, 'Osgiliath?' she thought 'Minas Tirith?', she had no idea what those places were or meant, that feeling she had earlier had returned and the same question 'Where am I?'.

* * *

**Mordor, Mountains of Shadow, Durthang**

As the meteor struck the courtyard of Durthang castle there were a few individuals inside Mordor who reacted to the sudden presence of an incredibly powerful being.

* * *

**Minas Morgul**

Sitting upon his throne in Minas Morgul, the Witch-King observed as his armies gathered and prepared for the inevitable assault on Gondor, but he was distracted from this when he felt a great power emerge over the skies of Mordor. He lifted himself from his seat and moved down from his throne trying to discern what he felt; it was as if he was feeling death itself had taken form in the mortal world. A being that permeated the very aura of death and destruction, he must investigate such an appearance; he turned to his lieutenant Gothmog.

"You will oversee my armies, I depart from here" Gothmog simply nodded, he had no choice but to accept the Witch Kings demands.

A moment later the witch-king mounted his flying beast and departed from his dark citadel and towards Durthang, intent on finding out what it was that he sensed.

* * *

**Barud-dur**

The fiery eye of Sauron gazed down onto the plains of Gorgoroth, his armies patrol the scorching lands in the thousands, searching for any intruder who believe they can enter his realm unseen. But they are but a fraction of the forces he has under his command, hundreds of thousands of orcs and beast he controlled along with the slaves from the east and south. He would finish what he failed to do three thousand years ago; he would conquer middle earth, and succeed where even his former master could not.

As his gaze was set upon the plains it was forced away when he felt a powerful presence approaching, to the west he sensed it, he felt the dark evil presence that accompanied the being, and it was mighty and powerful. He could sense the creature permeated the essence of death itself, he could feel its presence at the ancient castle of Durthang, and he could sense the orcs there being butchered. Whoever this being is would be invaluable to his cause, if he could control such a beast he could take over middle earth with little concern even if the enemy had his ring they could not possibly stand against a being that could only be described as death itself.

* * *

The entire castle was in an uproar; a comet had struck the cattle courtyard and killed a few dozens of their warriors in the explosion. The cattle commander had heard about it and when he was asked to come and investigate he was mildly surprised to see the slaughtered remains of over a hundred dead orcs and about four trolls.

In the middle of the carnage standing there in dark shadowy armour orc, that stood over eight feet tall and carried a massive sword that was even bigger than him, an interesting feature about him was his skin and eyes. His skin was a deathly pale green and his eyes glowed a bright blue, mist was actually pouring out from his eyes, he was simply standing there looking at the orc commander.

"You are I charge here?" growled the massive orc, his voice was that of steel hard and unholy, it only added to the intimidating nature of the orc with his unnatural echoing voice.

"That I am, you have some nerve to attack my castle" retorted the mordor orc, his voice may have been aggressive but in truth he was scared. "and kill all of my warriors"

"I have yet to find a warrior among your lot" retorted the Orc

"Who are you to insult me?" shouted the Mordor orc

"Varro Dreadbringer, Champion of the Knights of the Ebon Blade" he lifted his sword up and planted it on his shoulder with a single arm, emphasising how powerful he was, his voice sound like clashing steel but you could definitely hear the pride in his voice at the mere mention of his name.

"I'll be sure to place it on your headstone when were done with you" retorted the Mordor orc, behind him several dozen more of his soldiers had shown up, with a wave of his hand he ushered them forward. Varro watched with glee as they charged at him like helpless lambs to the slaughter, he dropped his sword from his shoulder and drew it back; as they came close he swung his blade wide. Three orcs were cut in half, armour, shields, sword, flesh it did not matter Armageddon tore through them like it tore through the air, no resistance.

His second attack was the same as the first, he swung his blade wide and cut down several more, he didn't require any finesse to defeat these creatures, they were fodder, but fodder he could enjoy killing. With an upward slash to his left he bisected a single orc before he twisted the blade in his had to deliver another vertical slice to his right, then he swung wide decapitating two orc in one swing.

He went on like this for only a few minutes, the orcs were to stupid and didn't think he could kill them all, they believe they could overwhelm him with numbers, he had fought more and killed stronger than this rabble. He grabbed hold of an orc and threw him into a nearby pillar, his screams were silence when he struck the wall and replaced with a sickening crack, another wide swing and four more were cut down.

Behind him a troll tried to raise its hammer, but before it could even think about bringing it down it was stopped cold in its tracks, Varro had cut through its thick armour and delivered a fatal wound. From crotch to shoulder the troll was separated into two pieces, for a moment it stood its ground before it top half began to slide off from the rest of its body. With three thuds it hit the ground, one for its hammer, one for the top part of its body and another for its legs.

"Pathetic" was the only response from the Death knight after he dispatched the troll, he turned to the last dozen or so orcs that were too scared to even approach him, he took a step forward to finish off the pathetic excuses. But when he heard a beast roar in the sky he turned to see a large worm like dragon flying toward him, the large reptile had dark scaly skin with a tattered wings and an elongated neck leading to a fleshy beak, but Varro as more interested in the creature that was riding the beast. A figure sat atop of the with beast covered in a black shroud and armour, covering his arms and could be seen of his legs were dark brass armour, his crown was a solid head piece but allowed one to see into the dark voice where his voice would exist. The crown reminded Varro of the Helm of Domination, the crown of the Lich King; Varro gripped his blade tighter and gritted his teeth in anger.

"Thou have come to the Dark Lords realm without invitation." the figure spoke, its voice sounded strained to speak and heard more as an echo "Why should I not let my pet feast on your flesh?"

"Because…" started Varro, the fel beast had its head only an inch away from Varro's, its jaw salivating at the chance to dine on the large orc flesh, but in an instant its head was severed from its long neck.

"…before it has its fill…" The fel beast flailed around and tossed the Witch king from his saddle, both hit the ground with a hard thud, before the beast finally collapsed to the ground, twitching occasionally.

"…I will have mine!" Varro finished, leaping into the air, raising his blade above his head with both hands, descending towards the rising Witch King.

* * *

Author's Note: Well here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy

It really took some time putting this together, had to do a lot more research (Both into Lord of the Rings wiki and the Online game) to get my boys into the story.

Also just so you guys can understand some of physical description I was giving here is a list of characters and their equipment and weapons.

**Mairne** – **Armour**: Conqueror's Worldbreaker Garb, **Weapon**: Stonerender, **Shield**: Northern Barrier

**Zul'kal** – **Armour**: Ahn'Kahar Blood Hunter's Battlegear, **Weapon**: Siren's Cry

**Adria** – **Armour**: Valorous Plagueheart Garb, **Weapon**: Damnation

**Varro** – **Armour**: Conqueror's Darkruned Battlegear, **Weapon**: Armageddon

**Joana** – **Armour**: Triumphant Turalyon's Plate, **Weapon**: Aesir's Edge, **Shield**: Bastion of Purity

**Sefri** – **Armour**: Vestment of Purity, **Weapon**: Staff of Endless Winter

**Annie** – **Armour**: Conqueror's Khadgar's Regalia, **Weapon**: Great Staff of the Nexus

**Rosaria** – **Armour**: Triumphant Malfurion's Battlegear, **Weapon**: Devotion

Now I know some of you might not agree with the gear they have but I am doing the best I can and try to give them items that are more designed to go with their class. If you have any suggestions or recommendation on what weapon or armour might be better for one character please let me know so I can put it into consideration.

Please Read and Review, thx.


	6. Chapter 04: Welcome To Middle Earth

**Hello Reader, I Hope you enjoyed my last chapter**

**I will be updating on a weekly basis, I will also be answering any reviews or question you have.**

**Takaiteishu Naruto – to answer your questions in respective order, yes, yes and maybe, true the prophecy stated that it was that the Witch King would not fall to 'man', it is true that this can be construed in a number of ways: one being a male human can't kill him but a female human can, or that he will not fall to anyone of the race of men, which is both man and woman. But remember he is the Witch-King, the strongest ringwraith in middle earth, who is fighting one of the strongest death knights of the Ebon Blade, it could go either way, but I am not going to spoil what will or could happen. Just remember, just because you can kill it doesn't mean you're able to.**

**Soulfire72 – I thank you for your input into how I write, I can see how I could have phrased the wording, I thank you for your review and hope to see and hear from you in the furture.**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

* * *

**Chapter 04: Welcome… To Middle Earth**

**North Downs, Kingsfell, Gatson's Farm**

Mairne and the human farm hand, who introduced himself as Farmer Alwin Walker, were walking along the fence line to the next farm lot, after the orcs were defeated he spoke with the farmer and was able to calm him down and convince him he was not a threat. Alwin told Mairne that he could take him to his supervisor, they could talk and then give him directions as a reward for what he did, but he warned Mairne that his master was a very stubborn farmer. Walking through the doorway of the household, which he had to crouch through to enter, Mairne was brought into a bare room with little to no furnishing, and what was there was simple wood hammered together, as Mairne studied the room's interior he saw two more humans sitting opposite each other.

"Master Gatson" said Alwin, he approached the two humans who were sitting at a table, with the youngest working on earnings and balances, while the older man was busy scowling as he assessed the figures made by the young man.

"What is it?" said the older man, likely Gatson; his voice was low and disinterested in anything that didn't involve him making some income from his failing farm.

"We have a guest, sir." said Alwin, standing right next to the older farmer.

"What? The only guests I want to hear about are the orcs, and that's so I can go out and kill them." he barked back at the young farmhand, he didn't even bother looking up from the piece of paper he was holding to speak to him.

When Gatson heard his other farmhand, Gilmar, had fallen silent in both not working or speaking he looked to the young man, he was sitting there staring off towards the doorway, his mouth agape and eyes wide open in shock, 'now what's got him so interested' though Gatson. He looked away from the boy and to what was so interesting that it took him away from his bookkeeping, he had to admit what was standing there had done to Gatson what it did to Gilmar, standing there was eight and a half foot bull-man. He had a massive build and was furnished in grand dark red and shady grey chain male and cloth, with thick chains binding the metal to the cloth, but the real eye catcher was the two massive pauldrons that sat on the creature shoulders.

They were made of solid metal and had a hollowed out core, inside flames and embers escaped from within, floating above the flaming basin was a stone which was held in place by four steel chains. The beast was close to three times as broad as Gatson and as many times larger in sheer bulk, how the creature got into the house with making a sound with those hooves was a mystery.

Shaking himself from his shock he leapt out of his chair and reached for the nearby broadsword, which was leaning against the wall a few feet away, as soon as he grasped the leather hilt he spun on his feet and faced the massive beast. Who had no moved from its spot or even showed concern or aggression over the fact he was facing an armed human being, Gatson though he must believe he can't hurt him because of his armour, the old farmer made a move toward the beast but was stopped by his young Farmhand Alwin.

"Wait, Master Gatson" said Alwin raising his hand in front of his old master to stop him from attack Mairne.

"What's wrong with you, we need to get that thing out of my house!" shouted Gatson

"I would prefer you not call me a 'thing'" said Mairne, to which the old farmer was taken aback by the creature ability to speak let alone comprehend his word.

"Master Gatson, he isn't here to hurt us, he saved the herd" said Alwin

"What?" asked Gatson incredulously, from that point Alwin went on to explain what happened before they arrived, explained how the orcs attacked and how he killed them all including a Chieftain. That part sent the old farmer back a few paces, all the while Mairne simply watched the dialogue passively, and he did not speak up at any point in the young farmer's explanation.

"So… you saved my farm" Gatson said slowly, he didn't ask it as a question but more as him trying to process the information his farmer had told him. He turned to the Tauren and walked up to him, but not before placing his sword back down on the table and extending his hand, Mairne took his hand in his own and gave it a gentle shake. "I thank you for what you did, had you not been there, Alwin here and likely all of my cattle would be dead right now."

"It is no trouble, these creatures did not deserve to live in a world so abundant and beautiful to only cause destruction and death" said the Shaman, his voice deep and ancient with wisdom.

"Even so, there is little I can offer you in turn" Gatson replied solemnly, he was a fair and honest person and didn't like to not reward people for help.

"All I require is to know where I can find a settlement in which I can stay, and from there find aid in my journey back to my homeland" replied Mairne

"Well, the closest settlement is at Meluinen; it's called Lin Giliath, its south of here, it sits close to the mountains, if you go there maybe the elves can help you" said the Old Famer

Mairne pondered this information for a while, he had no idea where he was and had little information on the world around him, and if these elves of Lin Giliath could help him then he should make his way there and ask for assistance. But he would have to be careful, these people have no idea what he is, if they have never seen a Tauren before then they would likely assume he is hostile, he would need to find a way to enter the camp without having it resort into a violent confrontation.

"I thank you for your help in this matter" replied Mairne, bowing to Gatson, who likewise bowed to the Shaman, but it was more out of fear of insulting him and was done clumsily. "I will take my leave now"

"Are you sure, it's dangerous to travel at night especially with orcs around" said Alwin

"Do not worry, I am capable of defending myself from harm, and if they do come in numbers, they will face the wrath of the elements" replied Mairne, but before he turned back to exit through the door he looked at the farmers and asked "On another note, how many weapons do you have?"

The farmers looked at one another in confusion over the Tauren's question, but a moment later they had brought out their weapons, lying on the table were five assorted weapons, a great-sword, three broadswords and an axe. Mairne examined them all, they were of simple quality and would not stand much change against the orcs when they returned, and he could not in good conscience allow these good people to suffer. Raising his hands over the objects, he pulled out a few crystals that he kept on his person at all times, he focused on the weapons and began chanting in a his own dialect, for a few moments his hand glowed and pulsed with energy. When Mairne finished his chant he places his hands over the different weapons and the light began to pool into the weapons, a moment later the weapons glowed a brightly before a large pulse of light force them to shield their eyes. When they looked down at their weapons they saw them glowing and pulsing with energy, each had a unique glow and colour, Gatson moved his hand forward and grasped the closest weapon to him.

The great-sword sparked with aqua coloured electricity, the enchantment was known as the mongoose, for the enchantment increased the power behind each strike and lightened the blade thus increasing the blade's speed. While the three broadswords each glowed a deep orange, a dim white, and the other a dazzling white, each one had been enchanted with a unique ability. The first was enchanted with the Icebreaker; the weapon was infused with fire, the second was given the Lifeward, which heals one wounds as he fights, and the Icy Chill, imbued with frost magic that freezes an opponent with every strike. Then there was the axe, the blades of the two head axe actually bleed with energy, it was infused with an enchantment called the Berserker, when the blade sheds blood it drives the blade and user into a battle rage. With this ability one can slay an opponent who is twice as strong as you with ease, these weapons would serve them well in the future, and the three occupants were stunned with what they saw.

"What? How? What?" Alwin tried to ask, but he could comprehend what happened let alone understand what was done to their weapons.

"I have enchanted these weapon, they will serve you better in defending this farm from the orcs" replied Mairne, Gatson lifted up the great-sword with one hand; he marvelled at the electricity that danced along the metal blade, he also noted the blade was lighter than it had been before.

"What did you do to this one?" asked Gatson, Mairne went on about each item and how each of them worked, he then told them about the benefits they would provide in battle. After he explained this to them they said they wish they could offer him something worthy of the gift he had bestowed upon them, he said to them the gift he wanted was reassurance they would be safe. After that he said his final good bye and left the house, he had the feeling that his journey was not going to end at Lin Giliath, there was something happening in this world, and he felt he was to play a role in it.

* * *

**Evendim, Parth Aduial, High King Bridge**

Annie and her ranger guide Galthoniel, who had been leading her across the land known as Evendim for the better part of an hour, had just crossed the High King Bridge, the little mage was shocked at the sheer size of the statue that stood guard over it. It was over two hundred feet tall and was made entirely of stone; the task to build something like this and to make sure it would last through the ages was a testament to the engineers and architects who designed it and the builders that carried out its construction.

The statue rose up on two large slanted pillars which slowly drew together as they rose up, when they connected everything above was formed and shaped into the upper body of a man, holding a shattered sword in his right hand and a spear in his left. The iconology of the broken sword reminded her of the statues in Stormwind, in particular that of High General Turalyon standing for all to see with the broken sword of King Anduin Lothar, she wondered if what happened to that sword was similar to the one wielded by Lothar, broken by the enemy but still used to bring victory through the hands of another.

But her thoughts would have to wait; Galthoniel drew her attention away from the statue that lay behind them, her ranger companion pointed off in the distance.

"There" she said to Annie, who looked at where she was pointing, off in the distance a large structure of white marble could be seen glowing in the moon light, which sat on a small island in the middle of the lake, it resembled a large cathedral in length with two large tower adjacent to the front entrance. Like the statue she was reminded of another structure in Stormwind, the Cathedral of Light, she was amazed on how much alike these humans were with the ones in her homeland. "Tinnudir Keep, the sanctuary of the Rangers of the North, it is there that we can discuss what to do with you"

"Hey I'm a person not a throw rug" Annie replied back lazily, Galthoniel bit her lip a bit not wanting to offend her and be turned back into an animal. Annie must have caught on to this and waver her concerns aside. "Don't worry, I know what you were trying to say, you must not be much of a people person"

"True, I am a very solitary person" she replied, relaxing visibly knowing she wasn't going to be turned into a sheep again. "That's why I was selected to guard that area down near the border; I have been there for at least two weeks now and haven't said a single word since I left the keep."

"Wow, you must be a strong willed individual to stand guard for that long and not get bored or go stir crazy" Annie said

"Well, it's who I am"

"I don't think I could last like you, even if I'm not with my own people, I still find it soothing have someone as company" she said, her head downcast and eyes distant as if thinking hard on an old memory, then she shook her head and cast those thought away.

"Are you alright"

"Yes, I…. just have a lot on my mind right now" she replied, turning herself away from the ranger, Galthoniel didn't see any reason to push on the subject any further so she turned back onto the road ahead. While Annie was deep in thought, her face was full of grief and fear, she was remembering the memories she had in Gnomeregan, it was almost ten years ago, that horrible day, when she lost everything.

* * *

**Tinnudir Keep**

"So this mission of yours to Bree what does it entail?"

"I cannot tell you much Calenglad, I am to keep this quiet and not draw to much attention to my departure" said the hooded figure, to the man known as Calenglad.

"I understand your mission is on a need to know basis, but why would you need to keep this information secret, we are your brethren you have nothing to fear from us?"

"As you said it is on a need to know basis, the less anyone knows the better"

"Please my friend tell me why this mission is so important, tell me why it requires you to leave while were in such dark times" the ranger talking with Calenglad turned from left to right looking for any eyes and ears that may be privy to their conversation.

"I am to escort a group of people too Rivendell, they are people of great interest to Lord Elrond, I cannot tell you more than that" Calenglad was shocked to hear this, he knew the ranger was a 'friend' of Elrond, but to be called upon to just escort some people, there was more to this than meets the eye.

"I see; I take it that the mission is more than just an escort, otherwise they wouldn't have called you personally for this, and you one of our best and you're well trusted with the elves of Rivendell, so this must be big."

"Yes, so do you see why I need this to be kept quiet" The rangers voice was low and serious.

"Yes, I understand Aragorn, I understand completely"

As they finished a single ranger paced up to them, his expression was hidden behind his mask but both Calenglad and Aragorn could see the urgency of his new from the strides in his steps.

"Captain" said the ranger, bowing his head in respect to both the Strider and Ranger Captain.

"What is it?" asked Calenglad

"Sir, Galthoniel has returned from her post at Brandywine River"

"Why? Has there been an attack?" asked the Strider, taking a step forward and with a little apprehension in his tone.

"No sir, she says she needs to see you, it seems she found… something" he replied, as though not entire sure why she had returned either. Both Calenglad and Aragorn shared a confused glance with one another before turning back to the ranger.

"Tell her to meet me in my study, sound like she has some explaining to do" replied the Ranger Captain, turning to leave along with the Strider close behind.

A few minutes later Calenglad and Aragorn were waiting patiently for ranger Galthoniel to arrive, when they heard the door slowly creek open they directed their attention toward it, as soon as it opened they saw Galthoniel standing in the doorway. Calenglad waved her in, as she walked inside they noticed right behind her was a young 'hobbit' girl dressed in strange dark brown clothing carrying an even stranger staff, at first Calenglad thought she was some random hobbit who wandered aimlessly into the keep.

"Excuse me young miss, but who may you be" asked Calenglad to the young looking girl, he acted calm towards her as to not appear rude, but in a way appeared to be treating the girl like a little child. "This isn't a place for someone to get lost in."

"You know, treating me like a five year old isn't the best way to start a conversation, I'm old enough to know that, and so should you" came the scolding remark from the little girl; even though her words were harsh she spoke with a very soft and shrill voice. Calenglad was taken aback by her remark as was Aragorn who was standing away from them and watching with his arms crossed, a moment after she spoke Galthoniel spoke up as to clear the air between the two parties.

"Captain, please…. Uh… don't take offence… she may appear young but she is actually much older" tried Galthoniel, but being a solitary person had not given her the experience in dealing with other people.

"I take it you know this little 'girl'" said the Ranger Captain, his voice calm, yet carrying a twinge of annoyance of the girls scolding tone and remark, but bit back any remarks for he was the one at fault for assuming.

"Yes, Captain, this is Annie Froststorm, Archmagi of the Kirin Tor"

Both Aragorn and Calenglad were surprised; she was a mage, although now that they took a closer look at the girl they could see that the staff she carried had a feint magical glow about it, but a Magi. The only thing they knew that was even close to a Magi was a wizard such as Gandalf and Sarumon, to claim to be a user of magic was a bold claim, especially coming from someone who appears to be a child.

"Does she have any proof to this claim" asked Aragorn, to which Galthoniel shuddered; this was caught on by both of the other rangers. "I take it she does?"

"She possesses many unique abilities, including: the ability to control ice and to be able to teleport herself at will" she explained; if Aragorn and Calenglad were surprised before then they were utterly overwhelmed; to be able to teleport oneself was a grand feat. Usually it required one to cast a powerful spell or to create a waypoint for them to transport from one location to another, but it required great effort and even chanting to perform. Though they trusted their ranger's word they needed to see it to believe it.

"Can you demonstrate it to us please" asked Calenglad, a moment later Annie disappeared in a flash of white light, shocking Aragorn and Calenglad, they scanned the room to find her sitting cross-legged on the table on the opposite end of the room. As they stared at her she had a childish smile on her face, making one doubt that she was anything but, then as moment later she disappeared again returning to the point where she once stood, in her hand was a book that Calenglad had on his desk. She handed it to him and he took it after a moment's hesitation.

"So do you believe me now?" she asked them, placing one hand on her hip and leaning her head to the side.

"Yes" said Calenglad slowly, he turned around and walked back to his desk, as he sat down he wanted to ask her further on her abilities and how she acquired them. "Now that we know you're a mage, can you tell us how you are one? As far as we know becoming a magus is not something that one can just do."

"Well, I was trained in the arts of Magic at the city of Dalaran, it was there that I along with many other were taught the art of being a magi" responded Annie

"What kind of Magic have you been taught?" asked Aragorn

"I have been taught in three main schools of Magic: Fire, Frost and Arcane, each school focuses on different mediums of sorcery. While I am skilled in all three it is the Frost school that I am most notable in"

"Interesting, Where is this Dalaran, is it far to the north over the Mountains or across the sea?" asked Calenglad, this is where Annie hesitated to speak.

"Before I tell you, may I ask you something?" her voice low, as if uncertain she wanted to ask the question let alone hear the answer.

"Of course"

"What is the name of this world?" that question caught them a little by surprise, even if one didn't know the name of the world they lived on they at least knew the land they lived in.

"Well… the world is said to be called Arda, but this place specifically is called Middle-Earth" replied the Ranger Captain, at those word the mages head hung low, her face scowling as if deep in thought.

"Wait… you said 'this world'" stated Aragorn "Are you trying to tell us…"

"Yes" replied Annie, answering Aragorn's unfinished question "I am not from this world, the name of my world is called Azeroth"

This was something that was a little more difficult for them to take in, they could believe she was a mage of sorts, from a distant land where a few gifted individuals could be taught the magical arts but to say they were from some other world was hard to believe.

"I'm sorry, but to believe such a thing would seem foolish" replied Calenglad

"No, it's alright; I know if I was in your shoes I would be sceptical as well" replied Annie her voice heavy with grief, it was a little saddening for everyone in the room to see such a cute little thing sad.

"Alright say I believe you, how did you get here?"

From that point on Annie told them of her conflict with a being known as Algalon the Observer, she skipped the details about him being sent to eradicate all life on Azeroth and much of the details regarding the city of Ulduar. She recounted how he created a massive portal that pulled her through, she theorised that the portal must have sent her across the greater dark and here, it was then that Galthoniel picked up on something.

"Wait, before I found you I saw a flaming comet falling from the sky and landing in the river, was that you?" when Annie nodded, saying that it was likely her, and theorised that she must have been encased in a sphere of arcane energy as she exited the portal.

"What you have told us is a very strange tale, I cannot denounce it as fantasy or reality, after all your standing here before us and have great magical ability and it would seem you fell from the sky" replied Calenglad. "But the question is: what do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know, I could see about trying to find a way back, after all everyone would think me and…." It was then that it dawned on her; if she survived then maybe everyone else did as well. "The others!"

"Others?" asked Calenglad

"Yes, I wasn't the only one to be pulled through the portal, at least four others were sent before me, they might be here as well" she shouted "I have to find them, they could be hurt or in danger"

"Calm down" said Aragorn, raising his arms and motioning them in a similar manner "If your friend are still alive then you won't find them here, you need to find someone who can help you"

"Yes, I need someone who has extensive knowledge of the world and knows people that can help me locate them" said Annie, resting her fingers on her chin and calculating her options.

"I may be able to help you, I am planning on visiting an old elf college of mine, he is very influential and has extensive knowledge on magic and may be able to help you" said Aragorn, to which Annie turned her head to the ranger and an instant later she was standing right in front of him.

"Really! Do these elves have any way of tracking me friends" asked Annie quite quickly

"I… Believe so, your arrival here may have not gone unnoticed, if they haven't discovered your presence yet it is only a matter of time before they do" said Aragorn, backing up slowly as the energetic little woman advanced on him to get the answered she needed.

"Thank the Titans for that" said a relieved Annie, she looked up to the human ranger and said "Can you take me with you; I would forever be in your debt for this aid"

"Of course, we will be departing in the morning, at sunrise, be ready to leave" to which Annie nodded, before giving off a loud yawn and rubbing under her left eye. Removing it they could see she was visibly tired and on the verge of falling asleep, Galthoniel ushered her out and took her to a nice room where she could sleep.

"Are you sure it's wise bringing a complete stranger along with you, it was a mission given to you by the elves of Rivendell" inquired Calenglad

"True, but under different circumstances I would have asked you to deliver her yourself, but I believe my trip from Bree to Rivendell is not going to be a peaceful one." said Aragorn as he walked towards the exit.

"Why? What are you expecting?"

"Ghosts of the Past." he said before disappeared behind closing doors.

* * *

**Rhudaur, Base of the Misty Mountains**

The woods at the base of the misty mountains were always silent, there were few creatures that lived within during these dark times, few still walk in the light of day and fewer that roamed the night, all life within the massive forests had either been killed or hunted to exhaustion by the orcs and goblins of the mountains. There was no howling of wolves, no hooting of owls, or buzzing of insects, only silence, which was broken by a low, pitched whistling, which ended with a thump and then an agonising scream, then another loader thump. That was however not the natural sound of a forest, but the sound of a hunter eliminating his prey, another whistle could be heard travelling through the air. A moment later another howl of pain was heard, and then the silence returned after the scream died with a hard thump to the ground, soon the once mute forest was revived as the sound of dozens of footsteps echoed through the air and chorused through the earth.

Standing in a small clearing, surrounded by several dead orc was a single blue skinned figure, his scrawny form deceptive to all of his physical capabilities, his red hair blowed lightly in the breeze as he listened intently to the world around him. In one hand he help a unique brass colour bow, so unique in its design one would think an ceremonial weapon rather than a hunting one, and in the other hand he held and arrow drenched in the black blood of his latest kill. He turned his head to the source of the noise that interrupted the tranquil silence of the forest, narrowing his eyes at the font of the disturbance in the natural stillness of the wilds for one of irritable drumming of heavy footed beast.

He had run down from the frozen mountain to this forest in hopes of escaping the shadows that trailed behind him, but to his annoyance they have not given up in their chase, he let out an exasperated sigh. He had little energy left to fight and all he wanted was to go to sleep, he was tired and bored of the fighting for the day, he wanted to call it a day and rest, but it would seem the Loa's were not kind to him.

"I'm gonna' be at dis all night" he said bowing his head downward and shaking it exasperatingly.

Raising his head he turned away from the source of the creatures that had followed him, he turned to the woods in the opposite direction and took off into the darkness. He had many predators behind him, which would not do, he was the hunter not the prey, it was time he thinned their numbers.

The orcs and goblins had been on this skinny beast's trail for the better part of the night, in that time he had killed twenty of them on their trip down the mountain, it was not stupid it was smart that they knew well, and it had killed seven more in the last few minutes. Finding their bodies in a small clearing, their bodies full of arrow holes, and the arrows that killed them removed after they were killed, they knew that to find him they had to spread out. They had split up into several groups looking for the creature, after the comet fell they decided to go see what it was, when they saw it they had a single thought on their minds, it must be some sort of rich and powerful being.

The powerful part they agreed on, and the armour and weapon it had looked valuable, it shone in the moonlight and glistened like stars in the sky, it had to be valuable, they had to have it. He was with four other orcs looking for the thing, they had been chasing it for hours now and they could barely keep up with it, they had seen it take down an ice troll easily so they knew they had to be careful. To beat a troll singlehandedly was a feat that few could do, even an elf would have trouble fighting a troll, so if he could do it then he must be powerful, and to an orcs mind power also means wealth.

As their search continued, marching through the thick bushes and hacking away any stubborn branches or shrubs, they heard a shrill scream, it was not far from where they were, 'they must have found him' he thought, they all rushed over to see what happened. As they pushed their way through a thick bush they saw a lone goblin laying in the middle of the clearing, he was still alive with an arrow lodged in his chest; they were not the first's ones to arrive another group approached the fallen goblin. They looked down at the creature with little care about his wellbeing, most goblins cared only for themselves as such they had few others that thought the same way, then something caught one of the orcs attention. Reaching down he found a golden coin wedged under the goblins arm, it shone brightly in the moonlight, he was entrance by the metal as it glowed and reflected the light, and then the rest saw it.

"Where did he get that?" cried out one

"Who cared, its mine" said the Orc who discovered the coin, attempting to tuck it away into a pouch before he was stopped when another orc drew his sword.

"Like hell it is, give it to me" the orc shouted pointing his sword him, very willing to kill his own kind to get a single piece of gold.

"Wait, there's more" said another goblin, true to his word under the wounded goblin was a few more gold coins, the creatures went into a frenzy, as they fought amongst themselves and the downed goblin who was trying to stop them from moving him. They lifted him up and threw him aside, lodging the arrow deeper into his chest and killing him a few second later, and they found a few coins piled around a strange mechanism on the ground, it was a large circular disk with sharp teeth, in the centre was another disk with an orange glowing crystal sitting on top of it. They had no idea what it was, the only thing they could determine it was making an odd ticking noise, then a moment later the outer ring shot up and connected with one another, striking the crystal as they . A fraction of a second after contact the entire area up to a ten metre radius was engulfed in flames, the orcs that arrived just a moment ago were thrown off their feet.

Looking back at the scene they saw body parts and burning corpses in the thick flames, but what caught this orcs particular consideration was the blue skinned creature standing on the opposite side of the clearing. Its form was mostly concealed in the shadows of the forest, its form only illuminated by the flames that engulf much of the open space ahead of them, he was looking right back at him and had the look of a predator about him. Slowly the blue skinned being retreated into the shadows and disappeared; the orc had gotten to their feet and taken off in the other direction.

He however was the last to leave, as he chased after his fellow orcs he heard all around him screaming, both in pain and in anger, he ran off as he heard a goblin scream not too far away. As he made it through the forest he saw many orc running around aimlessly, a one orc he saw running toward him only to be stopped when ground beneath him erupted in fire, completely engulfing his form. To his left he saw an orc fall against a tree three arrows lodged in his chest, looking towards the trees he saw a shadow moving through the branches. Running for his life he witnessed the carnage around him concocted by a single person, bodies lay lifeless on the ground, or blown or burnt to death by strange artefacts.

He passed around a group of trees to come face to face with an ice troll that had been completely encased in ice; its last moment of life could be seen though the shallow blue ice, screaming and reaching for help. Turning he ran away from the dead troll to come to another scene, the entire ground had been encased in ice, trapping a group of ups from the knees down in ice, but they were no longer alive, multiple arrows pierced their bodies, yet they remain fixed in a standing position. A troll came around the corner and as it ran it slipped on the ice and ploughed through a few of the trapped orcs and goblins before to stopped, it roared in anger before it was silenced with an arrow through the eye. Then a second later it head erupted in a gale of fire and blood, the arrow had exploded within the trolls head and showed its brains and blood across the snowy ground.

Getting to his feet he discarded his weapon and shield, opting to run rather than fight, he rushed off in the opposite direction to the massacre he had just found, as he did he found more orcs and goblins corpses around the forest. Their bodies stuck to trees by multiple arrows, while others had been strung up in rope traps and then dispatched with a single arrow, even though many had been killed more were still dying around him. He turned to see four orcs running past, a moment later they were struck from behind by a hail of arrows, and three of them had been killed instantly while the fourth tried to turn to face his attack. He did not last long, a shadowy blur rushed past him, too fast for either of the orcs to notice. A second later the wounded orcs head fell to the ground, while its body slowly began its descent along with it; it was killing everything around him. He turned to see more orc appear and to be shot down or ensnared in some sort of trap, it was choir of screams, they didn't even last a few second as they emerged from the trees and it did not matter what type of beast it was they would fall. Whether it be orc, goblin or troll they would fall, some by arrows others in explosions of fire or by being frozen solid in a block of ice.

As he turned he felt a hard impact on his chest, what followed the thud was a strange silence, there was no more screaming or the sound of heavy footsteps, just complete and utter silence. Looking down he saw a single arrow lodged in his chest, he moved his hand to grasp it but was stopped when a second arrow pierced his chest again, he was thrown from his feet and landed on his back, and he leaned forward and slowly dragged himself back. He rested himself against a tree and closed his eyes, he didn't feel any pain, the arrows had hurt but this wasn't what he expected when he thought he was going to die, he thought it would be him either going out quick or being cut to pieces. He felt oddly at peace with the way he was going to go, it felt like he had not slept for days and was slowly going to sleep, as his eyes began to blur and his body relax he saw a figure approaching him.

He opened up his eyes to see a skinny blue skinned creature standing in front of him, with large tusks and outlandish red hair, he was staring at the creature that had just killed all of them in a few hours. They were all dead and now he was here to finish off the last survivor, he drew his sword and placed the tip of the blade against his neck, with a single motion he sunk the blade into his neck and down into his chest. There was a brief amount of pain before it subsided and his vision began to fade once more, then it turned to blackness and he was dead.

Zul'kal was pleased with his word; one could say that killing people in such ways as barbaric and evil, but when you are dealing with creatures that are planning on murdering you in a similar manner, chivalry was worthless. He had killed close to one hundred of these things, he had put a lot of effort into killing these things, he may not be as skilled as a Dark Ranger or a Night Elf Sentinel but he was content that he did his job well. Lifting himself up, wiping his blade with a piece of cloth he took from the dead orc, he turned around and walked off, he was tired and wanted some rest, he needed to find a place to sleep.

_Two hours later, close to sunrise_

"Brother" said Elladan, directing his brother away from a group of dead orcs to a fallen ice troll "Look at this"

"It looked like its entire head was crushed" said Elrohir, slightly disgusted by the horrid mess that remained of the troll's neck.

"No, look at the scorching around the stump, this was burnt off, as if a ball of fire erupted inside the creatures head" stated Elladan, he then lifted up the remains of a charred arrow, he saw it lying next to the deceased creature and saw the tip of the arrow was still intact.

"This was the work of an archer" stated Elladan, drawing his brothers attention to the remains of the arrow, the wooden shaft had been burnt beyond recognition but the arrow head was surprisingly in perfect condition.

"He must have collected all his arrows after he finished, judging by how many he killed here he must not have many arrows" reasoned Elrohir

"I agree, but the damage he caused here make me nervous, the way he dispatched them was savage even by these creatures standards" said Elladan, looking in particular to the charged limb that was still smoking a few feet away from.

"Let us hope that whatever we are facing is not an enemy" said Elrohir, the twin brothers turned to one of their rangers, he had been sent forward to track the target.

"What news do you have Lenwe"

"The one responsible for this is travelling south west; he left here no more than an hour ago, likely after he claimed his arrows and traps"

"Good, get the men we move out immediately" said Elrohir

"There is another thing I must tell you" Lenwe moved to stop Elrohir, who turn just as he moved to do so.

"What is it?"

"The tracks, I have no idea what this creature is, but it is definitely not an orc or a human"

"I see, then we must assume it is hostile, if it does come down to it we kill it, but if it can be taken alive I wish it so." Elrohir turned to the rest of the rangers who were waiting for their lords orders "We are to bring this creature back to Rivendell, but if it proves unwilling then you have my permission to kill it."

With their orders received they were ready to depart on their hunt, mounting up they gathered behind the two elven twins and with a wave of his hand they took off in the direction of where their quarry had taken.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Well here it is Chapter 04, I hope you like it, it was fun to write this chapter and hopefully it will be just as entertaining for you to read.**


	7. Chapter 05: Vengence, Might, Wrath

**Hello all, next chapter is up!**

**Took a little longer to get underway that I anticipated, anyway you might enjoy this one, has a lot of good fight scene in it.**

**I have also made changes to Chapter 04: mainly the arrival arc for Rosaria.  
**

**Also, I am finally out of my writers block with my other story, isn't that great, now I can get to work on Writing my Original work, if your interested, please visit my Fictionpress site (Same name as my FanFiction username).**

**Without further Ado here is Chapter 05**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

* * *

**Chapter 05: Nature's Vengeance, Death's Might, Demon's Wrath**

**Mirkwood, Dol Guldur**

Evil, which was the one word Rosaria used to describe this place, all around her she could feel the dark energies pulse through the very stones of the wall; she stood alone in front of the twenty foot tall gate. The shadow of the wall blocking out what little moonlight that could pierce the thick clouds, as she gazed up at the massive ancient walls she had to hold back a shudder, she felt worried without the light of the moon illuminating her way, without it she felt detached and vulnerable. As a night elf she had a deep connection to that of the moon, the symbol and embodiment of their goddess Elune, to be apart from it was unsettling, and as a druid to be so close to nature that it was a symbiotic part of her and see it suffer in such a way hurt her.

She took a deep breath and approached the gate, she pondered as how to open the gate, something so large would require a good number of people to open or a large mechanism, she thought about shifting into her flight form and simply flying over. But she threw that idea away it would alert those inside of her abilities and also leave her in a vulnerable position if she is attacked, she needed to enter another way, as she ponder on how the gate could be opened a loud groan of metal could be heard. She peered up to the gate and saw it slowly being opened, she could hear the wood and metal complain as they were pulled along the dirt and the seams screech even louder as they had to deal with sudden movement after being set in place for many ages.

For a minute the doors slowly opened up to a long boulevard leading to a mountainous rise, the areas between the walls was completely barren save for a few dozen dead trees and small jagged rocks. On the mountain wall was a large single staircase that rose up towards a large arched entryway, now that she could see past the wall she could make out the monolithic structures that were perched on the small mountain, towers and high-rise buildings dotted its entire surface. Many appeared ancient and in disrepair, there were few that did not have a large piece of itself missing from its whole, there were roof torn away, parts of the wall missing or only just the remnants of a single wall remaining where once a tower once existed.

Rosaria gazed at the city with a plain face showing no one who may be watching that she was nervous; in truth she was apprehensive of entering the stronghold without any backup, to go into an ancient ruin with who knows what type of creatures lay within was a task not many, not even the strongest of warriors, would consider doing alone. But this place was the only piece of civilisation that existed in this tortured woods, so her only choice is to explore it and hopefully discover the reason behind the woods corruption as well as finding out where she is. With a single step she started on her way towards the massive dark citadel, not knowing what may lie within, tightening her grip on her staff and her resolve she strengthened herself for what may lay ahead.

* * *

**Barad Guldur (The Tower of Sorcery)**

Sitting on the throne of Barad Guldur, which once was held by Khamul, one of the Nine Ring-Wraith's of Sauron, Gorothúl, Sorcerer of Sammth Gul, Apprentice to the Dark Lord, and now Major-Domo of Dol Guldur, he enjoyed the seat, because from it he had absolute power over this fortress and all who dwell within. It was gratifying for him to hold such power over the lesser being around him, especially those orcs who serve under the dark lord, he had little care for the horrid creatures, but if they served their purpose well he could tolerate their existence. But from the usual boring tedium that accompanied the running of the stronghold, which involved making sure that they were properly stocked and had enough food for the men and the wargs, but there was some entertainment on the way.

The creature he had allowed into the fortress had been searching through the fortress for the last hour, he had diverted nearly all of his forces away from her and towards the tower, he knew where she was going and he wanted to make sure she had no possible means of escape. He had also called up several of the strongholds overseers to help prepare in the mornings entertainment, among them were some of his strongest lieutenants.

Urcheron, his strongest warrior and personnel executioner, he was the instructor and commander of the orcs in the Sword-Hall, his duty was to keep the beast in check and make sure they are ready for the invasion to the Northern land of Dale and then to the West where the Elves of Lorien dwell.

Morgaraf and Cargaraf, also known as the Twins of Fire and Shadow, two of the best sorcerers he has had the privilege to have under his command, they are an indomitable team, there are few who could stand against them alone and none together. Their duty was to train more sorcerers and defend the sanctity of this throne room from any intruder or force that would dare invade, it was a task suited to the pair.

He had called them here to discuss how he intends to deal with this intruder of theirs; each of them had their own ideas of how to deal with her.

"Let's set the warg on her, I'll enjoy watching them tear her apart" said Morgaraf, an evil smile gracing his pale face at the mere thought of it.

"No, no, no that will not do, we need to make a sport out of it" said Cargaraf, before putting her fingers on her chin and thinking for a moment, "Let's send some orcs after her and have them hunt her down, it'll be fun watching her run for her life"

"That will be boring" replied Morgaraf, with a pouting face "And besides they will likely be at it all night, I want to watch the blood flow before the year is out."

The two bickered to one another in the same succession for a few minutes, one slandering the idea of the other and then coming up with their own better idea and then the other doing the same thing, they were like children most of the time. Gorothul sat there listening to them squabble with one another, every minute they continued his patience was wearing that more thinly, he was about to silence them when he heard Urcheron speak for the first time.

"I have a suggestion, that would satisfy both parties" he said, his voice deep yet very plain.

"Go on" allowed Gorothul, he had seen his executioner at work in the dungeons many times and he always came up with some devilishly sadistic methods of torture, he had somewhat come accustomed to his talent and had it put to good use over the years.

"I propose we lead the intruder to the centre of the fortress, right in the middle of the Barad Guldur Square, there we can surround her on all sides, and then we can watch along with everyone as we rip them to pieces" only at the end did his tone change from being very plain to one of pure delight.

Gorothul pondered on this for a while, he had been hearing the orcs have become restless without combat for the last few months; it would be a good way to entertain them and keep them from trying to start some sort of revolt. This would also be a good chance to entertain themselves as well, he had felt the beings power and she was powerful, it would be entertaining to see how long she would last against their onslaught.

"I like it" said Gorothul, a cruel smile gracing his wrinkly face, the Twins of Shadow and Flame were about to argue but with a stern glare from their senior sorcerer they backed down immediately. He rose from his throne and approached his personal executioner, he placed a hand on his shoulder "Get everything prepared, also get that bat and troll out of the Sword-Hall, they might enjoy having a new sparring partner"

With a nod and bow he turned on his heels and walked to the door, Gorothul then turned to the two sorcerers who were currently standing idly by waiting to be told what to do, even though they did not show it they were resentful over the fact that they didn't get what they wanted. They could be such children some times, but blood was blood and as long as it was shed and in an entertaining way it didn't really mind to them.

"Go get the orcs ready, I want to make sure that when this intruder is in the square we are prepared, I want to see her squirm." Both junior sorcerers bowed to their superior and turned to the door and left, leaving Gorothul in the throne room to think about the good show that would be playing in a few hours on his very doorstep.

* * *

**Sammath Gul**

Foul sorcery that is what she could smell in the air as she walked through the desolate streets, dark magic had been cast here and given risen to other evils that may still remain; and she could feel the magic and evil permeate the air like a perfume. She could hear silent moans in the darkness and feel the yellow eyes in the shadows of every alleyway staring at her, she was not alone here, yet they did not emerge from the darkness or try to attack her, why? What reason did they have not to attack?

As she continued he way through the dark streets she reached a large clearance, a massive plaza stood before her, dark stone laced the ground and led to a large hourglass staircase leading up to a large balcony. Dozens of dead trees acted as a pathway towards the stairs, twisted and deformed in many ways that were abnormal for a tree to be viewed, Rosaria walked up to one tree and placed her hand on it, she tried to commune with the spirits within. But as soon as she made contact she stepped away, yanking her hand away from its bark as if it was on fire, as soon as she made contact with the spirit she heard horrid screams and wailing for freedom, so horrid was the feeling that her entire body quaked with fright.

These trees have suffered far worse than those in the surrounding forest, whatever lies within these walls must be destroyed so they may know peace and suffer no longer, as she turned back to the tower she had an even greater resolve now to end whatever evil lay within. As she approached the staircase she felt a unease build in her, as well as a foul smell begin to become more thick, she could feeling it at the back of her throat every time she took a breath. She turned to her right to see a horde of black skinned beast approach, glad in sheets of grey armour and carrying jagged axes and swords, they snarled and howled in the as they advanced, among their ranks were smaller and more lithe pale skinned goblins that drooled and shrieked. She turned to her left and saw a similar force approaching, in equal number to that of what came from her right, without even needing to she turned to see another group coming up from behind, she was being boxed in.

From what she could tell there were at least two hundred of the creatures standing outside of the plaza, they should not be a problem to escape from, a strong enough hurricane spell should be able to deal with them and then she can simply change form and escape. As she weighed up the options and thought about the perfect spot in which she could escape the sound of a heavy door being pushed open caught her attention, looking up the staircase she saw a large metal door slowly being opened. Behind it was complete blackness, there was no light to show what lay within the fortress, as the doors were fully opened did the movement of others become noticeable. Emerging from the darkness were three figure clad in thick robes, each one emanated dark power and evil, she could say the two behind the man were much more powerful than he but she could not say if he was flaunting his power as they were.

From the strength they possessed she would have a difficult fight on her hands if even one decided to attack, she may be powerful but to fight even one would be dangerous without aid, all three would surely end in her death. Rosaria silently wished Tyresa was here, she and she would be a match for them along with all their pets that surrounded her, she could probably destroy them all and maybe wound the three above her but she would weaken herself to the point where escape would be impossible. For now she would see what played out, if they wanted her dead they would have attacked by now, there were many reasons they may be apprehensive about fighting her, she was powerful, and two thousand years of experience does not count for nothing.

"So this is the creature that decided to invade out fortress" said the red and gold robed man, his face old and wrinkled, he was amused at the sight at the bottom of the stairs.

"I expected better to come, not some feeble woman" said the second man, to the left of the first, he sneered the last word with more contempt that which normally accompanied his unpleasant tone. Then he turned his head to the other sorcerer to his right and said "No offence to you of course Cargaraf"

"None taken Morgaraf, I would be insult if you tried to compare me to the little thing down there" Cargaraf replied cheerfully to her fellow magus, before she turned to a more disdainful tone as she spoke of Rosaria.

"Tell me little woman" playfully called out man in red and gold, Rosaria narrowed her eyes under her raven cowl "What brings you to my humble abode"

"I have come here to rid this forest of the evil that corrupts it" stated Rosaria, her voice firm and youthful, yet her answer was met with laughter and jeering.

"Fool, you think a single person can hope to rid Mirkwood of the corruption that ails it, you have not the power to destroy this fortress" replied the Magus in red and gold.

"The fortress? Do you mean to say this entire place is responsible for the suffering of this land?"

"But of course, this stronghold was once home to the Dark Lord himself, his very essence still lingers in every stone you see before you. You have no hope in destroying Dol Guldur, not even I am that powerful nor is any of us, the Dark Lords power is unassailable to any force."

"We shall see." Said Rosaria, she grasp her staff a little tighter and prepared herself for anything that may happen. But a loud chuckling could be heard from the man in red and gold, he waved his hand in front of him dismissively.

"Oh don't be so belligerent, I intent to have some fun with you first" with a wave of his hand a group of orcs from the crowd surrounding her attacked, she turned to her left and right and look over her shoulder to assess the enemies that were attacking. Twenty five, that should be simple enough, she turned to face the closest orc and she charged the beast, as she drew closer she leapt in the air and in a swirl of magic she shape shifted into a purple sabre, as she landed she leapt at the surprised orc and claw out his throat. Both she and the dead orc landed with a thud, but she wasn't done moving, she turned to the next victim and in a burst of speed she sunk her fangs into the orc neck, tasting its black blood in her mouth, and grimacing at the disgusting taste of it.

Keeping her mouth clamped around the orcs neck she snapped it, leaving it in a nighty degree angle, releasing her dead prey she turned to the rest of the orcs that were rushing at her with axes and sword raised above their heads. Growling wildly she lunged at the next prey, quickly ripping out his throat before using him as a jump point to leap to the next victim, its blood smeared on her purple coat, making her a fur as dark the night sky. Turning she could see the rest closing in, lunging at the closest orc she sung her claws into his chest and fangs into his face, she leapt out of the way as one swung his axe at her, impaling his wounded comrade. Shifting her form from that of a panther she turned herself back into her original form and sent a small gust of wind at a small group, blowing them away and knocking them out as they collided with the ground.

* * *

Up on the terrace the three sorcerers were watching the battle before them with interest, each on had a different interest in her abilities, Morgaraf liked how she could turn into an animal and rip people's throats out at a whim. While her compatriot Cargaraf liked how the magical being was able to manipulate her shape and possessed power over the wind, even if it was minor control it was still impressive how she was able to pull it off with little effort or the need for incantations. But it was their senior who was most interested, Gorothul was looking at a powerful force that was hiding itself in a deceptive form, her abilities surprised him, he had expected her to use some form of magic that would decimate the orcs in a single blow.

But where her magical power was not the only thing impressive, her ability to fight even with her staff was admirable, she would change her form to fight enemies up close and then use magic as a last resort, she was definitely smart, he believe she would plan out her attack beforehand and have several more ready in case something went wrong. But this was hardly the method to use when trying to find out how powerful she was; they needed to send something in that could really test her, he turned to his personnel executioner down in the crowd and with a nod shared between them they started the second act of the show.

* * *

With a roar she clawed out the last orcs throat, his hand coming up to try and stop his blood from pouring out his neck, he fell to his knees and slowly he fell to the side and landed with a thud, dead as he hit the ground. She shifted back into her normal form and then looked up to the three figures standing on the terrace, she could see each of them were interested in her is some way, whether it be in her ability to kill or to use magic was not known, as she focus on this she was almost caught off guard a something behind her tried to strike. Ducking under a plea blue talon she looked to her side to see a scarlet coloured woman, her legs and arms were pale blue up to the knee and elbow, her form may appear to be human but it was marred with abnormal mutations. Her hands and feet were clawed and annexes grew out of her wrist and folded along her arm, she looked like a bat-woman hybrid, as she examine them she saw it coming at her, leaning back she narrowly dodged the talon as it tried to sever her head from her shoulders.

Leaping back Rosaria could see the beast acted on more primal instinct rather than rational thought; she should be simple enough to overcome, with a roar the bat-woman charged at the night elf, Rosaria had it planned out perfectly. But when she caught the sight of a man with a large in his hand ready to split her head in two she was forced to improvise, leaping back as the strike come down at her, she then had to dodge to the side as the bat creature tried to pounce on her. Rolling on her back she stopped in a kneeled position, she pointed her staff towards the bat-woman and a torrent of wind knocked her away, as the Axe wielder attacked she gracefully dodged to the side and with the end of her staff she clubbed him in the back of the knee. Then she spun on her feet and the staff in her hands, as she came to a stop she drove the head piece into the humans face, knocking him off his knee and onto the floor.

As she looked down at the human and prepared to finish him off she was snuck up upon again, turning on her heels she came face to face with fifteen foot tall armoured beast, in its hand was a massive maul in it hand, which it reared back quickly and sent it forward just as fast. Rosaria did not have the opportunity to dodge the attack, she couldn't it was coming to fast and she couldn't find a place to escape to, she was going to be hit. With her quick thinking she was able to throw up a defence to stop her from being killed, the maul struck her stomach and chest at the same moment, she felt the air rush out of her lungs and her stomach lurch but she didn't feel any bone break, that was a blessing. She was thrown over twenty metres, landed on the hard stone she rolled to dissipate the force on her own body, slowly she lifted herself up using her staff as a crutch to keep herself stable, she looked down to her stomach to see a small tear in her cloths and a small trail of blood seeping out between her tree bark skin.

Before she was struck she used a special ability known as Bark skin, sealing the user in a thick sheet of tree bark, though it didn't offer the same protection as plates armour it was better than nothing, especially when you going to be hit by a maul. Finally reaching her feet her bark skin soon shed itself from her forms and using one hand she healed her stomach wound, luckily it didn't pierce an organ, as soon as she finished she was surrounded by three combatants. A human, a bat-woman and a large grotesque troll beast, they were skilled and would require her to use more of her power to finish them off, she sighed in irritation, to use her power on such creatures seemed almost beneath her, but it had to be done. As soon as she closed her eyes they pounced on her, she had to admit she was surprised that the two animals would work so well with the human and be able to coordinate with one another, but even they would not be able to stand up against her.

As she opened her eyes she uttered a single word under her breath, a moment later the ground beneath the three attacker erupted, coming up from the ground where dozens of black thorn roots, ensnaring the beasts and halting their movements. They writhed and screams as the thick roots wrapped around their legs, arms, chest and neck, and their thorns digging deep into their flesh, even though this method was painful it wasn't a fatal ability, what she followed up with however was. With a gesture of her staff she pointed to the sky, opening through the clouds were three small holes that allowed the moonlight to shine through onto the three trapped victims, for all around they had no idea what was happening, but for the three sorcerers they felt it.

Pure power was being drawn from the moon itself, she was using the power of the skies and heavens above as an actual weapon, there were none they knew that could call upon such power, but what exactly she was doing was yet to be seen.

"You will not leave here alive, one of us will kill you"

Rosaria looked to the human that was ensnared in front of her and she could see the hate and anger in his eyes, he spoke with a hard tone, she narrowed her eyes at the human.

"We can never tell when it is we meet out maker, but I believe I will not meet mine for many years to come, but for you." she raised her staff high; the light of the moon shone all that more brightly onto the three trapped fighters. "This is the end."

From the openings in the dark clouds above three spheres of light shot forth, moving so fast that the eye could barely keep track of it, they descended forth to the three trapped warriors surrounding the Druid. Then in an explosion of light and energy they detonated against her prisoners, their forms only visible as black shades within the blinding light, from it a large gust of wind shot out from the centre of the plaza.

* * *

Cargaraf and Morgaraf were shocked by the sheer power behind the attack, never had seen such an ability, to decimate three of their strongest fighters in a single attack was astounding, but it was Gorothul who was more concerned than shocked. This power he had witnessed was like nothing he had ever seen before, even when he was taught by the Dark Lord nearly a century ago he had never seen him exhibit or teach him such magic, this proved that she does not only have vast magical power but has power over the world around her as well. She was a dangerous threat that needed to be eliminated immediately; there was no telling on how much damage she could cause to their forces let alone Dol Guldur, Gorothul turned to the twins.

"Get down there and kill her, and do not play around, kill her now!" he ordered them, his voice booming and full of authority. Both the sorcerers looked at one another before rushing down the stairs, intent on killing the woman, while Gorothul screamed across the courtyard to the surrounding orcs "The rest of you, get in there and kill that Bitch!"

* * *

There was a massive cheer as the orcs and goblins brandished their weapons and set off to kill the single target, their scream echoed across the whole stronghold, but their action were note intimidating to Rosaria. She had walked up to look at the charred remains of the human warrior, his cloths and skin scorched black from the Moonfire spell, she pushed on him and the thorns that suspended him turned to ash as his burnt body flopped to the ground. She turned to see the rest of the beast coming to attack, there were hundreds on them and she was hopelessly out numbered, she would need to thin their numbers and get some help, turning to one tree that spiralled upward, she smiled.

Raising her hands to the sky she channelled a new spell, her hands started to channel electricity, the skies above started to thunder and crack with electricity, all around her the orcs and goblins stopped in their tracked fearful of the power the woman possessed.

"Hurricane" was the only word that was heard before the sound of lightning crashing into the earth, groups of orcs were thrown from their feet and electrocuted by the electrical surges, they struck all across the courtyard killing the orcs in the dozens. As the spell continued so did the storms intensity, with one hand still above her head she channelled another with her free hand, pointing from one tree she called upon the spirit within.

"Forces of Nature, I call for your aid, come and face the foes that assail me and have causes your torment, let the end of their life bring some comfort to you souls." With those word a single tree began to move and twist, its trunk lifted itself from the stone and dirt and with one of it thick branches it swung at the unsuspecting orcs. From there the rest of the trees began to pull themselves from the earth and attack the ugly creatures around them, killing dozens of orc in turn, with the lightning and ents at her side she was killing scores of orcs, but the exertion of such power had taken its toll. She fell to one knee, no longer able to channel the storm above, panting heavily and using her staff to prevent herself from falling she looked at the carnage around her, orcs and Ents fought against one another out of bloodlust and vengeance.

There was carnage everywhere, she was weak and tired and needed to escape, there was no more that could be done here, she needed to retreat and recover, using what strength she had left she lifted herself up. She turned and started running back the way she came; she could do no more in this place, she shifted into her cat form and took off, no more time for subtlety she had to escape. Behind her were two powerful sorcerers who watched her escape, both had a harsh look on their faces and their clothing was slightly scorched.

Rosaria rushed through the streets, doing her best to remember her way through the labyrinthine roads of the stronghold; she could hear the orc rushing through the alleyways and the streets behind her. She had little avenue of escape but luckily she had not deviated from her former path in any way, if she followed it she would reach the gate in a few minutes and then she could escape through the forest. As she reached the steps leading out of the confines of the stronghold and to the plains between it and the wall she was hopeful, there were no more clattering of swords and armour and no signs that she was being followed.

As she leapt down the stairway five steps at a time she felt relief flooding her system, she was tired and drained for the previous day's experience, and now the sun was starting to rise over the horizon, she had not had a single ounce of sleep for the last four days. She was yearning for sleep and every second she rushed towards the gate to more that urge began to build, it became so great, and that she did not noticed the attack from her right until it was too late. A ball of flame struck her on the side, burning her fur and scorching her flesh, she roared aloud as the flamed knocked her across the dirt, she lay there like a wounded animal, moaning and crying at the pain that coursed through her body.

Opening her eyes she saw the two sorcerers standing there, with smug looks on their faces, they were so sure of themselves and their abilities, yet their cloths were burnt and scorched in many places, and she knew it wasn't from the spell they just cast. She slowly began to shift back into her original form, her legs, arms and body began shifting and reforming in the lithe form of a night elf, as she finished shape shifting Rosaria was lying on the ground with severe burns on her waist and stomach. She looked at the two magus's and scowled under her hood, she could not be beaten by a group of children who use their magic as a play thing, she needed to get up and fight, lifting herself up she stood on her staggering feet.

"I will not be beaten by a pair of children who use magic as their plaything" said Rosaria defiantly, but this did not dissuade the two from laughing at her, her threat was heard from deaf ears.

"Oh don't worry, were not going to beat you, were going to butcher you like an animal" the sorceress smiled devilishly, while her compatriot simply grinned ear to ear. As they moved in to attack, Rosaria raising her staff to prepare for a fight that would likely be her last, a single arrow landed at their feet, the three turned to see a group of archer on the walls and at the gate. Their arrows trained on the two sorcerers, who were shocked and angered by their sudden arrival, then on a silent command they let them loose, sending dozens of arrows towards the two magus's. They created a wave of fire that consumed the wooden arrows easily enough, but when a single arrow shot straight into the man's side did the flames disappear, the woman rushed to his defence and shielded them with a dome of dark energy.

"Hurry!" shouted one of the hooded archers, Rosaria turned to see him gesturing for her to follow "We must hurry more will come here, we cannot hope to fight those two and an orc army at the same time!"

Rosaria nodded and rushed over to the archer, as best she could however, her wound was still fresh and as she ran she used her healing power to treat the wound, but the demonic flame had done serious harm and it would take time to heal. She reached the archer side and he pulled her along, while the rest sent a hail of arrows at the shield keeping the occupants inside pinned down, as they exited through the gate they mounted their horses and took off. Rosaria was thrown onto a horse with the archer she was with, she sat in front of him and as they rode she slowly healed her wound, all the while looking at her saviours, she could sense something about them that was familiar, but for now she needed to focus on making sure she survived the night.

* * *

**Mordor, Mountains of Shadow, Durthang**

Varro parried the Witch-Kings sword off his own, before moving his blade to shield himself from the massive flail that came after, with a hard impact Varro skidded along the floor a few inches, twisting his blade from a guard position to a striking one he brought it down on top of the Wraith. Sword met sword in a flurry of sparks, Varro fighting to edge his blade closer to the wraiths head while the Witch-King trying to push it off of his own, then with some effort the wraith threw the sword off of his own before following up with a counterattack.

Swing his sword in a wide arc at the death knight, which was blocked by the wide blade easily, when it was stopped he brought back his flail and swung it overhead towards Varro, readjusting his sword in his hand he intercepted the flail as easily as the blade. This had been going on for hours now, they would fight one another with unceasing ferocity and never back down, each gaining the upper hand at key moments before the other took it away and used it in turn, and it was a never ending cycle. As was their theatre of battle, they had fought in nearly every room of the fortress; they had either wonder in one room in their brawl or were thrown in when one got the upper hand, eventually they had come to a small bridge leading from one tower to the main body of the stronghold. They had been duelling on it for the last fifteen minutes, trading strikes and blows against each other's sword, and surprisingly they had past their record for how long they have fought in a single location since they started their bout.

As the Witch-King sent his sword at Varro it was countered with a similar move by the orc, and when he tried to send his flail to attack, it was countered by another swing of the massive sword, for every attack sent force it was met with an equal reply. Seeing as he was mimicking his moves in perfect sequence he planned out an attack that he could not equal and if he could it he would end him a moment later, stabbing his sword forward. Varro met his attack with a similar attack, both blades met and stopped one another, this was the Witch-Kings change using his flail he knocked the sword away from Varro's guard, twisting with the strike he brought his sword across his chest and intended to deliver a downward strike. As he brought his blade down he was met by no resistance and felt his blade stop only when it hit the bridges stone floor, looking up he saw Varro had twisted around to avoid the strike, he saw the orc saw still turning on his feet with his sword over his chest in a similar manner as he had when he struck.

Seeing the move that was coming the Witch-King put his sword in a reverse grip and raised it to defend himself, he raised it just as the blade was about to strike, the force behind the attack had actually cracked his sword and sent him off his feet. The Witch-King was thrown off the side of the bridge and sailed through the air, for the next few moments were utter surprise on the wraiths part, he had been bested by a low bred animal, which was worse since he was an orc. With a heavy crash he landed fifty metres below the bridge on a small cliff side, he had lost his flail in the fall and his sword was on the verge of breaking, he had to retreat, he lifted himself from the dirt, but before he could even think about moving he saw a large shadow envelop him. Looking up he saw a sight that surprised even him, a massive orc with a large sword over his head descending towards him, the Witch-King brought up his sword and blocked the ground shattering strike, which had actually stopped the orc mid-air.

For a moment there was nothing but the massive forces that battle to overwhelm one another, for a moment there was nothing but the sound of earth being torn apart around the two warriors, then the sound of a sword breaking overshadowed all others. Being thrown away from the strike the Witch-King skidded along the dirt to the precipice of the cliff and looked down the steep jagged slope to the burning wasteland below, turning onto his back he saw the orc looking down at him. Raising his sword to defend himself he saw only the hilt and what remained of the blade, he had shattered his sword, the weapon was forged of the strongest materials and enchanted by the most powerful of magic, and there was nothing in this world that could shatter it. Yet there it lay before him, his blade was broken and his enemy stood over him triumphantly waiting to deliver the final strike, final strike? Impossible he could not be killed? Not living man could kill him, but what was he? No it can't be, he can't kill me, he can't!

Varro drew his sword across his chest, intent on severing the foul spirits head and taking his crown as a trophy, he was a powerful adversary and had given him a good show, but it was time to end the game and finish off the loser. As he drew his blade over his chest and tightened his grip on the hilt of Armageddon, intent to deliver its name sake onto his beaten opponent, oh how he loved the irony of his swords name and how it brought a reckoning on all who opposed it. But before he could swing his sword a great burning light engulfed him, though it did nothing more to him that irritate his cold skin and eyes, though his body was not affected, his mind was drawn away from his body and he stood in a dark shadowy plain. Everything around him was distorted and chaotic, he couldn't hear anything aside from the eerie howling of wind as everything around him seemed to be swept up in a hurricane, his looking for anything to show where he was, and as he did he felt a great heat behind and a dark fiery voice.

"You invade my realm and slaughter my soldiers and show your strength by defeating my greatest champion" Varro turned to look at a massive inferno behind him, which erupted out of dark vertical eye slit, he looked up at the eye with a bored interest. "You will be useful in my conquest of Middle Earth"

Varro stood there staring at the fiery eye for a few moments, as if sizing it up for a possible fight, before with a gruff and echoing voice he replied.

"No"

"You have no choice" said the Eye "You will serve me, whether it you be a walking corpse or a disembodied wraith"

As the eye vanished and the shadow world around him slowly disappeared, returning to the real world, his gaze turned to the massive tower to the east with a massive glowing pinnacle, as he was distracted he felt a sharp pain pass through his chest. Looking down he saw the Witch-King had stabbed him with a short sword, though the weapon would do no real harm to him he felt something wrong about the blade, with a growl he grabbed the Witch-King by the throat and lifted him off the ground. His anger so great that the ground beneath him began to fester and die; already dead plants and bones that littered the ground decayed into nothing but mush, his form giving off an aura of death and destruction, Varro swung the wraith over his head and into the ground.

The sound of stone cracking under the impact could be heard far and wide, even though the Witch-King was an incorporeal spirit the aura that was being emitted by the orc Death Knight was actually rotting and rusting his armour and cloak, even the remains of his sword began to disintegrate. He did not understand it he had stabbed him with the blade, even a simple prick with the tip of the blade would leave an man writhing in pain on the ground, yet the blade had passed right through him and the hilt almost connecting with his armour. Varro threw the wraith into a boulder nearby, a cloud of pebbles and dust erupted upon impact, embedded in the stone was the witch-king who appeared to be sitting in the large crevice that was created. Varro moved forward and with a solid kick he knocked the wraith through the rest of the rock and off the side of the cliff, he looked over the side to see the Witch-King fall down the side of the mountain, striking against jagged rocks as he fell.

With snarl that was followed up with him spitting down the mountain in the Wraiths direction, he examined the blade that was lodged in his chest, he looked at it and saw that it nearly pierced his heart, likely missing only a few inches or so. He grabbed the hilt of the blade and pulled it free easily enough, he looks at the particularly ordinary blade with a scowl, what did he think the blade would do? There was no way it could do any real damage. Then before his eyes the blade turned to ash, leaving only the hilt behind, slightly surprised he threw the blade away, as he looked at the weapon he could only guess it was some sort of poisoning weapon, when the blade disintegrates it must leave behind a poison in the body, he must have been lucky to pull it out when he did.

He turned back to the fortress behind him, he looked towards the gates, a massive draw bridge was lowered to allow easy access into the stronghold, he saw rushing across it dozens of black skinned orcs. Narrowing his eyes at them he walked over to where he left his prized sword, hefting up the weapon on his shoulder he turned to the advancing horde of gremlins, they were not worth much effort, but because of the slight that was dealt to him by that wraith he was eager to vent some of his frustration on these puny creatures. A group of orcs prepared to attack, lifting their weapons above their head and preparing to bring them down in a moment's notice, Varro looked at these amateurs with little enthusiasm before swinging his sword lazily, and he doubted he was going to relieve much stress in the next few hours.

**Isengard**

Ten metre high walls blocked all entry into the confines of Isengard, the only thing visible was the massive dark tower rising over a hundred meters into the sky, for any who attacked or hoped to gain entry they would need to enter through the gates. For the walls were being patrolled by dozens if not hundreds of keen eyed orcs and goblins, while the gates however were not so well protected, three guards stood watch at the gate.

Adria peeked through the tree line towards the eastern gate to Isengard; she had been roaming through the woods for the last three hours looking for this stronghold of theirs, from what she could see there were three very bored and negligent guards. She looked at them with a bored interest, she needed to get inside without being seen, they would pose little threat to her but the idea of having to fight off an army with limited power was something she did not like one bit. Turning back into the darkness she slowly crept back within the confines of the dark woods, making sure not to make a sound and remain inconspicuous, once she reach a small clearing she turned back the way she came before turning to the left and right, making sure she was safe from any prying eyes. Satisfied that she was completely alone and far enough away not too be seen or noticed she began chanting a spell, her hands were engulfed in dark purple and green energy, focusing her mana and life force into the spell she could feel herself weakening as she chanted.

Even though performing spells does temporarily weaken an individual, as it forces them to expel a sum of their mana and power, but it is usually gone a second later as the body adjusts to the sudden change in the amount of energy present. But with Mana fatigue it is very different, once a person begins to exhaust their mana supply they start to develop symptoms of mana deprivation, where the body uses up too much of his mana and either tires him to the point of passing out or kills them. That is why many magi and warlocks have mana potions on hand, so in the event where they expend too much of their energy they can use it escape and seek shelter to buckle down and allow their body to replenish its missing energy. But since the land around her was not very abundant with mana or any form of magical energy she could absorb it in ample quantities to fight off the nausea and grogginess, which was bad for her, she was very low on mana and since she had no connection to the nether she would be in a weakened state.

As she continued to chant her spell she focused the energy into her palms, which was holding the fel energy in a ball, and as she reached the end of the chant she pushed her hands forward, the sphere shot out and landed a few feet away from her. When the light faded a magical circle appeared and began to pour its energies three feet above itself, creating a small green sphere, for a moment nothing happened until it eventually moved away from the circle and towards Adria. The sphere floated harmlessly towards her, it formed a glowing bright green with a black vertical slit running down the middle, she looked into the eye of Kilrogg and smiled, she looked back to the circle to see another had formed and a third was in the process of being made. She looked at each eye individually and on a mental command she sent them off to explore the eastern wall, though they may glow they were actually very elusive wards, they moved above the canopy and towards Isengard, as they move so did she running back to her previous position to wait for her eyes to find a way inside.

The First eye searched along the ramparts, looking for any gap that could be exploited to her advantage, there were none to speak of, there were some but they formed only for a short time and she wouldn't be able to use it without being seen. With the second eye she observed the gate, three orcs stood at the outer entrance with four more hiding in small alcoves in the corridors, make getting through there elusively impossible, she couldn't kill them either, there were to many to kill quietly or quickly at the same time. Then her third eye scanned the roof of the gate, there were no guard patrolling up there, they must think that they would be no point on someone climbing up there as there were men on the ground, she smiled at how stupid these creatures are when it comes to defending a castle. Since she did not have much mana left she decided to recycle the eye rather than use it as a conduit for her spell, focusing she channelled the energy within the eye and had it convert its fel energy into a summoning circle. A few moment later and the eye disappeared from her mental control, but a summoning circle could be sense close by, with a wave of her staff she was transported to it, kneeling down as she arrived she made sure no one noticed her arrival, for a few minutes she remained there waiting for any sigh showing she had been found.

When none were seen she rose to her full height and walked over to the edge of the gate, she looked out onto the field that was Isengard, what she saw was a complete surprise to her, she expected some sort of fortress or even a small city. But the sight of a barren plane of land with large open caverns and crude factories that would make a goblin oil refinery looks like a gnomish workshop, she was completely surprised, Isengard was just a barren field with a bunch of beast using it as a warehouse. The only thing that had any lively colours were the trees, which were being dragged from the forest and thrown into the massive caverns below to be burnt, she needed to know more about what's going on here.

She motioned for her two remaining eyes to scour the area and look for anything important, one entered through caverns to see what was transpiring below and the other would search through the camps above.

The first sights she got where from the hollows below the surface, she could see dozens of goblins making crude weapons and even cruder armour, which were being strapped onto large black skinned orcs. There were hundreds of them down there being armed, with swords as sharp as a door knob and armour that would offer no more protection from a sword than their own skin, as one was finished being armed and armoured he would leave and another un-armed beast would appear. It would seem that they keep coming out of the deepest part of the caverns; from there they would be cleaned and suited up, then sent on their way to another section to wait. The eye stealthily searched for the source of these unique creatures, and following the muddy beast to their source she had to gasp at what she saw, she saw a large cavern full of goblins shovelling up both filth and these black-skinned orcs.

They were actually digging these beasts up from the earth, but what they were putting into it was even more revolting, they were putting in small pale sacks, her best guess told her that they were some form of gestation pods. Then it dawned on her, they were growing them, they were growing an army of these beasts, and from the size of the room and based on how quickly they were coming out she quickly deduced that they would have hundred at their disposal in a matter of days, thousands in weeks. Whatever they were for it could not be for noble purposes, an army of blood thirsty creatures was good for only one thing, divide and conquer everything in their path, and depending on how long they have been doing this and how long they can keep this up they would be a very dangerous threat.

She removed her gaze from the eye and move to the one in the black fields above the caverns, above she could see hundreds of peons pulling down trees and dragging them to be burnt in the caverns below, as well as having them build massive machinery. Battering Rams, Siege Towers, even massive ladders, they were definitely planning on war, but with who was something she did not know, but if they were at this stage it couldn't be too long before they eventually attacked.

Apart from the war machines and workers there was little being done on the black plains, most of the work was being performed underground, they must have wanted to keep this entire thing a secret, for if someone knew they were building an army here there would be some who would rise up against them. Seeing as there was no more need to search through the black planes she shifted her attention to the black tower, having it search for a method of entry, but alas there was only a single entrance she could see from afar, a single small balcony only thirty feet above the ground. Though it was what she was looking for she didn't want to walk right in without finding some sort of back door, she continued her search, or lack of, there were no other windows of entryways of any kind, what kind of person builds only one door and one window for such a wonderfully dark residence. As the eye moved to the pinnacle of the tower and still had not fought a single entryway she started to get frustrated, she was about to turn to eye around and use it to create a circle when she noticed something, or rather someone.

She saw a lone figure leaning against one of the razor edge points at the top of the tower, he was clad in grey robes and looked hurt and cold, she looked closer to his face and saw he was an elderly man, maybe in his late eighties, a large grey beard and long hair framed his wrinkly features. Then she noticed his deep blue eyes, she could see vast power within him that was confined in a mortal shell, then she realised, he was looking right back at her, he was looking at the eye, seeing his condition she saw no reason as to not try and question him.

* * *

Gandalf looked up at the glowing green orb, he could feel the dark energy that swirled within the invisible shell, and he could tell it was simply a tool used by something more powerful, likely the same being he felt only a few hours ago. There was no telling on how far away the controller of this object was but he had the feeling it was close, as the orb focused on him he felt the power within it built and pulse, soon it directed its energy towards the ground below. As the energy poured out of the orb and into the stone roof etching and runes began to appear, the design and circle were alien to him, in his two thousand years of being an Istari he had never in his life seen such glyphs and marking. But the sensation he felt from it was all too familiar, it was demonic in nature, evil and dark, tools used by evil wizards and demons alike for power and dominance, and if he had to guess what it was that was being made now it was a summoning circle.

He could do nothing but wait for whatever was channelling the spell to finish, without his staff he was powerless, even he could not focus his energies in such a weakened state and without his staff. He looked at the orb as it channelled its energy into the summoning seal below and waits for it to finish, when the moment came with the orb deteriorating into nothing and a bright flash of green light as the seal was complete. For a moment there was nothing but the glowing circle that was etched in the middle of the Orthanc's summit, then the light pulsed brightly and blinded Gandalf, as he shielded his eyes for a moment as the light built up he could see the outline of a figure between his fingers.

Lowering his hand he saw the figure standing before him, he was slightly surprised with what he saw, standing in front of him a lean woman in menacing robes that made her unique beauty appear all that more fierce. Her robes were a dark blue which was hardly seen because of the many ornate gold and red lining that covered it, her stomach had a large red eye with a vertical slit similar to a fiery eye, on her shoulders were pauldrons that had five horns like appendages shoot out from the surface as well as another red eye. In her hand she carried a large black staff; the shaft of the rod was wrapped in thin leather bindings, the two main features of the staff were the head piece and the pommel at the bottom end of the shaft. The headpiece and pommel had a stand with four clawed points in each corner, the only difference between the two were the ornate objects rising up from the centre was a long serpentine dragon; its eyes were ruby red and with several barbed spikes moving up its back to its bowed head. The pommel was similar, but the main difference was the crooked thorn that extended out and coiled in on itself, all together the staff was just as menacing as the woman who held it.

Who in question was a young beautiful long eared elf; she had eyes that glowed with green fire and he could feel the raw power that was held within the woman's deceptively delicate form, even the way he stood showed she was strong-minded and thought herself superior to all those around her. When she looked down at the aged wizard he could feel her eyes bore into his soul, he could see the hunger behind it the thirst for all thing magical, he knew that the reason for this woman's appearance here may not be of good intentions. She approached slowly using her staff as a walking stick; with every step Gandalf prepared himself for what possibly might be his end, he could feel the evil aura wash off her form like a perfume, as she stood over him she looked down with no emotion on her face.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, it was plain yet her accent and tone were tantalizing all the same, he looked up at her warily before replying.

"Saruman the White" said the elderly wizard, his voice strained from the beating he took not too long ago from his former ally and friend.

"I see" she said "Where is he now?"

"Inside the tower"

"Good, then we should be able to talk for a bit" she said cheerfully, before turning her head to the right and then appearing to be in deep concentration, she turned back to the aged wizard and smiled childishly. "So… What's your name, old timer?"

He was a little taken back by her childish attitude, even though she reeked of evil and shadow she was quite innocent in her speech and actions, she crouched down in front of him levelling her eyes with his own.

"Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey"

"Hello Gandalf the Grey, my name is Adria Darkweaver, it's a pleasure to meet you, even though it would be better under different circumstances" she said sheepishly near the end.

"That it would, why are you here?"

"Oh, I kind of landed nearby and decided to have a look around, I found this place and was really enthralled by the beautiful scenery" she said sarcastically, planting her elbow in her leg and her chin in her palm.

"You cannot stay here it is too dangerous, if Saruman find you, you may be killed" said Gandalf, worry in his voice, but over two things, one over the fact that this girl is found and killed and the second thing is her power may be used to the fallen Istari's purposes.

"Don't worry, we'll be leaving soon, just got to get my eye to create another circle and then we can leave" she said chirpily

"We? You're taking me with you?" asked Gandalf incredulously, which earned him a scowling remark.

"Hey just because I look like the bat out of hell doesn't mean I am, besides you're the only friendly face around here who hasn't tried to rip me limb from limb, so your my best bet on letting me know where in the nether I am"

For a moment there was silence between the two, both gauging one another to see which one was going to speak and if their words would be true to what they were actually thinking, until Gandalf spoke up first.

"Alright, if you help me I'll assist you" Adria smiled and rose to her full height

"Great, don't worry we'll be out of here in a…" she didn't finish, a moment later she felt her body go rigid and then flung to the side of the tower, she could feel an invisible force trapping her. The next thing she knew she was hanging off the side of the tower by her heels; the only thing stopping her from falling was likely the invisible field around her body.

She strained to look up, the field was keeping her entire form from moving, she couldn't even move a single finger, but when she did she saw a white beared wizard and matching robes pointing his staff towards her. She could sense his power, he definitely was strong, stronger than even an Archmage or her on a good day, his hold on her was great and she couldn't fight back, if she did she would likely fall and if she didn't he would kill her anyway.

"So this is the being I felt not but a few hours before" he said, his voice deep and enigmatic, she could tell his words were laced with magic, every word he spot reeked of magic meant to charm weak minded people. "I felt you power when you arrived, you are mighty and hold dark and evil power within you, power which I sorely need"

"Hah! Why would you need the power of a delicate little flower like me, have a problem keeping you staff up" she jeered at the white Wizard, which was responded with a yank of his staff that pulled her up straight and then back down , face first into the stone. She cursed as soon as she hit the hard stone, though she didn't break anything she could feel a small trickle of blood run down her face and over her left eye, 'oh, he's going to pay for that' she thought.

"You may be powerful, but there are others who are more so, even I could not dare face them alone, I will need your strength in order to overcome them" he said slowly walking towards her, he kneeled down in front of her "Share with me your power and I will spare you and together, you and I will rule over this Middle Earth"

Gandalf feared this, for he knew that if he felt the presence of this Adria then so to would Saruman, and he would go to any length to try and claim this power for himself, no matter the cost. Now he was trying to sway the girl under his charm and if it worked she would become a great threat to the free people, he could not allow this to happen.

"No! Do not listen to…" he could not finish, Saruman pointed his staff at the grey Wizard and pinned him to the pillar, and then with his free hand he offered it to Adria. For a moment Adria thought over her options and then she did what Gandalf has feared she would, she took his hand in her own and he lifted her off the ground, Saruman smiled devilishly at the fact he so easily manipulated the magical being in front of him. As he tried to remove his hand it was caught in the vice grip of the woman in front of him, he looked down at it and saw her hand was shrouded in dark energy, he looked up to see an evil grin on the woman's face before she said coldly to him.

"I respectfully decline"

A moment later she let go of his hand, as dark energy began to sink into his skin and he fell to his knees in agonising pain, she looked down at her work, the curse of agony was a very potent spell, and it would tear the very muscles in a person's body apart on the cellular level. The curse would spread its way through his entire body before slowly killing them, but what happened next took her slightly by surprise, the curse had only been able to work its way into his arm up to his elbow, 'he must be strong if he can resist it, even though the pain' she thought. Saruman lifted his head and glared murderously at the blood elf, he turned his staff on her and in a flash a stream of flame emerged from the white crystal on the staff and veered towards her, Adria having only a moment to act created a barrier of fel energy.

Focussing all her power into maintaining the barrier she held back the flames, she had little chance of holding the flames back for long however, her mana was low and to maintain the shield would drain it quickly, she needed to think of something fast, she rummaged through her brain looking for anything she could use. Then it hit her, she knew a spell that would protect her from the flames, it wasn't exactly a spell used by warlock but more for a mage, she smiled evilly she liked having the best of both world in her fingertips, pouring a surge of energy into the shield she began chanting the necessary spell.

Saruman kept pouring his flames onto the woman who attacked him, she must have been very strong willed to resist his persuasion, but in the end he will get what he needs, whether it is from her willing cooperation or from the remains of her corpse. As he kept pouring the fire onto her he felt the barriers around he begin to collapse, she was starting to weaken, he felt a single burst of magic from her before her shields finally shattered and the flames enveloped her. He stopped his attack and waited to find the charred remains of the woman, he waited as the magical flames still roared in front of him, but when the headpiece of her staff emerged from the fire and shot a bolt of shadow at him he was taken completely off guard.

Landing heavily on his back he slowly rose to find the woman he though dead pointing her staff toward him, her cloths and her body completely unaffected by the magical fire around her, with a wave of her hand the fire disappeared. She smiled evilly at the white Wizard, who tried to stand but had to clutch his chest in pain to see the energy had worked its way into his body and gave his chest a very sickly colour.

"I'm going to rip your soul out and feed it to demons" she said sadistically, but Saruman was unperturbed by the threat and rose quickly to attack once more. Sending a beam of fire at her with his staff, Adria smirked at the attack; she dodged the attack effortlessly, before following up with one of her own attacks, she sent a ball of flame right at him. Even in his current condition he was able to avoid it, she followed up with another attack but was deflected with his staff, the battle went on like this for many minutes, one would attack and the other would defend waiting to counter. Gandalf watch this battle in amazement, not only was this being able to resist his will but also fight against him with efficiency unparalleled by any wizard he has ever seen, not even the other Istari could hope to stand against Saruman like she was doing right now. If she would not join him then she could be a potential ally in their fight, even though she appears evil he could see that she did not possess a soul as such, she may wield dark power but she controls it, not the other way around, she could help free Arda from Sauron.

With a shadow bolt passing by Saruman's head he saw his opportunity to attack, he sent a wave of force at the blood elf; she was knocked from her feet and flew towards the edge of the tower, nearly falling off. Using her staff she balanced herself long enough to veer away from the edge, she sighed in relief before her attention was drawn back to the white wizard who intended to finish her off; with a wave of his staff a blizzard enveloped the tower. The entire tower was surrounded by a tornado of ice and snow, the temperature dropped rapidly and Adria could feel her entire body quake, she turned to the Wizard and saw him chanting continuously and increasing the power of the spell. She turned from the white wizard to Gandalf and saw him in the same position she was in, he was freezing to death, and she could see his hands start to darken as frost bite began to set in, she could not hold back any longer if she did they were both going to die.

She began to draw on all her power, she felt the demonic energy in her begin to build, she felt the demonic influence that resided within her and her very soul merge as one, she opened her eyes gone were the emerald orbs, replaced with glowing purple eyes. Saruman continued to chant his spell, he had not needed to exert such power in centuries, to call upon it to defeat but a single opponent was something even he could not remember in his long life. As he continued to pour his energy into the raging tornado he could see his former Istari comrade slowly freeze, but this was of no concern to him, he has been trying for many weeks now to lure him over but he could not succeed. He would finish off the sorceress before him and then move on to discovering the font of her power, but as he kept channelling he felt a massive spike of dark energy from the elf, he gazed as her and saw her entire form surrounded by purple flame.

Then as it formed a sphere around her he could almost feel two separate presences inside the shell, one was the woman and the other was something else, he could feel them both combining their energies together as well as their essence. They were becoming one being. Then in an explosion of shadow which disrupted the tornado and utterly eradicating it from existence, he looked up to see a horrific sight; from where the woman once stood he saw a being of pure darkness stand before him. The creature before him bore a feminine appearance, her body was had luscious curves and was quite skinny, but that was easily missed by the demonic features that she possessed, her skin was completely black and had purple runic symbol lining over her chest and stomach. Her arms were slender as any normal woman but her hands were sharp savage claws, which shone in a deep dark purple colour, her legs were long and slender like her arms but her feet were replaced with hooves. Looking to her face he saw no visible mouth but two glowing purple eyes that had runic symbols running vertically up from her chin to her forehead, which stopped as it reached two large protruding horns that jutted forward and curved upwards. But it was the massive tattered wings on her back that gave her the appearance of a true demon; they extended almost three metres across and shone with purple energy and fire.

The raw fel power that washed off of the creature before him was so intense that he had some difficulty standing, the very world around him was being flooded with dark energy that seemed to actually hurt him, and he had to lean on his staff to keep his footing.

"It is time to end this!" bellowed the demon; its voice was that of Adria's that echoed with a demonic tone, it charged forward with incredible speed, its wings flapping behind it and its hooves gliding across the stone. Saruman could only lean to the side to avoid the incoming attack, but even he was not fast enough to dodge the attack, the dark claw cutting deep into his shoulder, he fell to the floor clutching his shoulder as the claw seeped fel energy into his body causing intense pain.

He looked behind him as he lay on the floor to see the demonic Adria turn to strike again, the white wizard was completely outmatched by the woman, he had underestimated her power and now he was paying the price for his foolishness. Adria spread her wings wide and with a leap and thrust of her demonic wings she was propelled into the air, seeing the intentions behind her actions Sarumon rolled out of the way, the force of her hoof striking the stone caused the entire roof of the Orthanc to crack and some pieces along the edge to fall away.

Adria growled, this was taking too long, she could only maintain this form for so long before it drained all of her mana reserves and she reverted back to her original form, she lunged at him again, intent on stabbing her claw through his chest. Saruman lay there completely immobile in pain and fatigue, he looked up to the hideous creature before him, one hand extending forward to grab his throat and the other intent on delivering the finishing move, he could only watch as the final strike was to be delivered. He felt the shadow coloured claw wrap around his windpipe, he struggled to breath even though in the next moment or so we was going to be dead, he couldn't not allow it to end like this, his betrayal was not widely known but if he was not reborn in time he would wander the world as a shade for the rest of time, he could not allow it. He tried futilely to raise his staff as the claw came down onto his chest, but in the end he knew it was a wasted effort, as he felt the fingers pierce his chest he screamed in pain, but there was no immediate death.

Looking he didn't see the demon that had nearly killed him, it had disappeared and been replaced, kneeling over him was that occurred sorceress; he saw the shock in her eyes as she had her fingers lodged in his chest. Not shock over what she had done, but more to as what she was unable to do, he looked at her with burning eyes and tightened his grip on his staff, he would not suffer being bested by a lowly girl.

She had no idea what happened, she shouldn't have reverted back so quickly, she had the power to perform the metamorphosis, but not to maintain it, it didn't make any sense. As long as she poured her energy into the change she would remain in the form for as long as it is intended to, why was this any different, she did not have the answers as would not be able to fully comprehend them for now. She looked down at her hand to see her fingers had been lodged into the Wizards chest up to the proximal phalanges, so close, she was so close to finishing this, she had little to no power left to fight, her mana was nearly gone and if she tried to keep going she would exhaust herself and likely result in injury. Then she saw the Wizard staff rise quickly, and like it so did she, the staff sent an invisible force at her and she was thrown through the air and crashed into one of the razor points, she groaned and coughed up some blood from the impact. Falling from the point she landed face first on the stone floor, she could feel a burning sensation rush through her entire form as she tried to lift herself up, she could stand but the pain told her not to, but when she was thrown to the ground again landing in front of Gandalf she gave up her futile attempts to stand.

She looked at the aged wizard in front of her, his face contort in sympathy and pain, she had tried her best to fight this Saruman and it wasn't enough, he was the better, even if she was in a weakened state. He lifted herself enough to look at the battered white wizard as he stood up, his robes were in tatters and his right arm hung by his side limply as if dead, his face was drenched in sweat and his legs shook trying to support him.

"You are definitely powerful, even with someone as in-experience as you, you hold enough power to nearly overcome me, a feat that has not been matched in centuries, you will be very useful to me" said Saruman, through heavy breaths, he slowly moved forward to deal a final blow to the blood elf before having her taken back inside the Orthanc. But Adria would not give him the pleasure of taking her, even wounded she had always a plan of escape, she turned to Gandalf and grabbed his leg, she turned back to Saruman and pointed her staff to his feet, a red rune appeared below him and pulsed brightly. Saruman looked to rune and then back to Adria, who had an evil smirk on her face, she was there for a moment before a green light enveloped them both and they disappeared from sight, he was about to step forward to try and stop them but the rune below him pulsed once more, sensing the power behind it he prepared to summon his defences, as he did a massive pillar of fire erupted from the rune consuming the entire pinnacle in green flames.

* * *

With a flash of green light both Gandalf and Adria found themselves within a small clearing in Fangorn Forest not too far away from the walls of Isengard, Gandalf looked around wearily trying to discover his current location, seeing the trees and fauna around him he recognised it immediately. Standing up he allowed his aching body to adjust to the warmer temperature and scanned the surrounding woods for any patrolling orcs, when he heard a groan he whirled on his feet, laying there on the green circle was the woman who had saved him, he mentally scolded himself for forgetting about her. He leaned down to try and help her stand; his hand reach for hers and slowly lifting the sorceress onto her knees, she was breathing heavily and was visibly tired not from only the exertion of all her energy but also from depravation of sleep.

As she lay there struggling to catch her breath, and occasionally coughing up a small amount of blood, Gandalf saw her staff nearby and reached for it, as his fingers touched the red leather on the shaft his mind was invaded with voices and imagery.

"Please!" he heard a woman screaming, he saw in a prison, dozens if not hundreds of woman and children locked in cages, they were all crying and screaming, they were all in rags and looked as if they had not eaten in days. Some were dead already and slowly rotting through the hanging cages grated floor, flies and other insects crawled through their rotted out chests, he could smell the rotting flesh along with the putrid stink of the slime covered walls around him.

"Stop! Please Stop!" he heard a young woman call, a girl, no more than twelve, strapped to a table, a walking corpse standing over her with bloodied robes and a large serrated dagger in his hand, he looked down at her with uncaring eyes. He smiled at her and patted her head pretending that it was going to be alright, even though he could see the glee in his smile at the thought of dissecting the girl in front of him, Gandalf wanted to look away but his gaze was fixed on the girl on the table.

"Please! Noooo!" she screamed, as her flesh was being removed from her body while still alive, always removing it sections at a time, first the flesh than the meat and organs, anything that was left was thrown to a pack of ghouls that devoured the rest. Gandalf felt sick watching such brutality and horror, he looked around to see the remains of hundreds of people, men and woman of many ages, dead and their corpses either rotting in the slime or being devoured.

He soured through a necropolis with river of green slime and undead beast roamed every hall, he came to a massive room electricity flew about everywhere, striking the walls and discharging in the green acidic goo below. He saw dozens of undead beast crowding around a massive beast that would rival even the walls of Minas Tirith in height, his flesh covered in many stitches and metal, below a single undead holding the same staff belonging to the woman raised it high and pointed it at the behemoth, he watched as massive amount of electricity flowed through its body and brought it to life. As it stirred Gandalf realised that it was, the grid like stitching over is body, it had been composed out of the flesh of all those people who have been killed, he watched in complete horror as its eyes shot open glowing and a final scream could be heard.

"Help Me! Save Me!"

Gandalf fell backward away from the staff, he was shaken by the experience he just felt, when he touched the weapon he felt a presence within, a soul of a tortured girl. His eyes were focused on the staff that showed him things that would bring most men low, even he was not immune to the horrors he just witnessed, turning from the staff to its wielder he wonder how such a magical being could wield something so evil without seeing the visions.

"You alright?" she asked weakly, reaching for her staff with her hand and dragging it to her, while Gandalf sat there watching her slowly pull the staff towards her, completely un-affected by the staffs ability to impart visions onto any who touch it.

Then from the west the sound of a horn could be heard, an orc horn, Saruman must know they were close, Gandalf got to his feet and walked over to Adria, putting on arm over his shoulder and arm around her waist. He made sure to keep himself from touching that staff of hers, when they were ready they started limping in the opposite direction of the sound of the horns, the orcs would be on them soon enough they had to escape.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**Well, there you have it, this one was a long one and took some time to get done, it was easy to write but it needed some refinement here and there before I decided it was good enough to be worthy of your eyes.**

**Read and Review please, Thanks Jimmyjamster728**


	8. Chapter 06: The Lights Touch

**Hey Guys, sorry for the long wait, been real busy, and when I'm busy I'm doing stuff (mostly stuff I don't like) I can't do other stuff (Stuff that I do like) so there you have it.**

**Now I have a fantastic chapter for you today, it's a little different from how I usually write, because mostly there is no maiming, burning, killing or other violent monotony's present. Please don't go, I need your reviews they feed me, anyways hope you enjoy.**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

* * *

**Chapter 06: The Light's Touch**

**Osgiliath**

Faramir along with his rangers paced through the ruined gates of Osgiliath, stepping over the fallen archway that one stood over them, but now was nothing more than a massive opening in the wall no more recognisable than any other hole, by his side was the very blissful dwarf that called herself Sefri. Ever since they departed from the Cair Andros they had not spoken a single word to one another, he found it uneasy, he would glance at her every now and then to see if he could discern what she was thinking, but he could not get past her serene smile and golden eyes. But he knew she was deep in thought, she had been since they began their trek here, he saw on several occasions where he shouted orders to his rangers to see in the corner of his eye the dwarven woman being pulled out of her musing, obviously there was something she was hiding from him, but what exactly he did not know. As they entered through the archway he glanced to the right to see a single ranger hiding, watching them walk by from the remains of a crumbling tower, as soon as he spotted him he turned and rushed off, a moment later a loud cry was heard.

"Captain Faramir had returned, Captain Faramir had returned" crowed the sentry, they moved into a large muddy quad and stopped in the centre waiting, for a moment nothing happened, not a single sound was heard and said, then from the shadows and hidden crevices appeared many hooded warriors. They were so silent that even when they revealed themselves they made no sound, they were rangers and they were the elite hunters and trackers of the south, they were the best, some say even better than their northen cousins. Eventually there were dozens of them there standing in a small patio watching the warriors who had just arrived like hawks, Faramir raised his hands and for a moment kept it immobile before gesturing it in dismissing manure, with that the men around him relaxed and greeted each other like long-lost family. Sefri saw some move off to speak with some of the other rangers that had circled around them, likely to speak with them about how their mission went, and others went off and embraced each in hugs and pats on the back and shoulder.

Sefri watched the people around her she saw them conversing with one another as friends rather than soldiers, yet only a moment ago she though they were going to attack one another, yet now they laugh and joke with each other and offer food to their weary companions, this wasn't just a military force, it was brotherhood of warriors. As she looked around the white stone ruin that was Osgiliath she wondered how long this place had been left to rot, she could see that only a few high walls remained and even fewer towers, she thought that she would be arriving in a city not a ruin of one. The ground was cluttered with numerous stones and collapsed buildings, it was hard to see anything apart from that, any more stone on the ground and it was likely they could pull it off as a poorly maintained stone pathway.

"Captain" turning she saw a single ranger approaching, she could tell he was older than Faramir; he took a glance at Sefri before turning back to his superior.

"Madril, what is current state of the city" asked Faramir, his voice stern and commanding, as he moved past the ranger Madril.

"Orc raids have been increasing; we also have reports that Haradrim and Easterlings have been travelling through Ithilien" replied Madril keeping in step with his Captain, while Sefri kept close behind the two rangers.

As the two spoke with one another she tuned out their conversation, she had to think of what to do; she was currently trapped in an unknown land on an unknown world, she had no idea how she arrived her or how to return. She could only theorise that something happened when she was fighting against the Algalon entity, the last thing she remembered was healing Adria, after than she could only remember a few images, Zul'kal grabbing Adria and then an explosion of light. Whatever happened here it must have propelled her here, though the thought of being stranded here was disheartening the thought of going home was just as unsettling, last she knew her allies were fighting against a being that planned on bringing an end to all life on Azeroth. It wasn't the fact that she was stranded here with no way home, it was the fact she was stranded here with no way home and had no idea whether she actually had a home to return to, the very thought shook her to the very core.

The possibility that she may be unable to return to her world was taking a toll on the priestess, even though she kept herself calm and composed, inside her mind was a chaotic storm of doubt and fear. Doubt in believing that the god-like beings that created her race would so coldly cast them aside along with many others, like nothing more than a toy in the hands of a bored child, and fear in the fact that she may be the only survivor of her world. She was alone; Sefri shuddered in fear and could feel her will breaking apart, her anxiety and instability creeping slowly to the surface, she felt her pace slow to a standstill and she fought not to shed the tears building in her eyes and cry aloud.

"My friends, my family" she said, in a low weeping tone, but none heard her speak, she stood there alone for a while trapped in her own thoughts trying to find order in the chaos that was ensuing in her mind. But she found no ground to keep herself secure, she had nothing to allow herself to keep a hold of her sanity, she had nothing left, not the Argent Crusade, the Alliance, her People, she had nothing left, not even the comfort of the light could help her frenzied soul. She could still feel it in her, but it was small and diminished, is was only a candle in consuming darkness that was enveloping her mind and heart, she drew her arms up and hugged herself, feeling cold without the warming touch of the light flow through her.

"Please, no, I don't want to be alone" she pleaded softly, so soft it wasn't even above a whisper, her heart was so full of fear of losing the only thing that gave her closure she nearly lost her ability to stand.

Then she was torn from her thoughts by an unknown cry, she heard a painful moan in the air, Sefri scanned the ruins looking for the sources of the cry and when she heard it again she pivoted to her right. She heard another this time a low muffled growl of a man in pain; she looked over to see a narrow passageway, she slowly approached the sources and into the passageway looking for the people she heard.

* * *

"The Easterlings and Haradrim, where are they exactly?" asked Faramir, he walked in quick strides, he was walking through his camp and inspecting it to make sure everything was in order, he may be a good hearted man but he would not allow his men to be lax in the face of an attack. As of late he had been dealing with more orc raids on the ruined city as well at Cair Andros, because of this many of his warriors have been injured and because of the conditions many of them wouldn't likely die from infection rather than their wounds.

"The Easterlings are moving in through the northern most parts of Ithilien, from what we can see they have been arriving in groups, the last passed through the area two weeks ago" Madril responded to his Captain.

"Are the men at Henneth Annûn able to deal with them?" asked Faramir, turning to look away from his inspection to his Lieutenant for a moment, when he saw Madril hesitate to speak he knew there was more to this than just a random increase in enemy activity.

"No, they say that they come in large numbers, and…" he slowed a bit when he tried to speak, Faramir turned to regard him more seriously "they have Mumakil"

"Mumakil" breathed Faramir, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, this was not good, the beast were almost a legend amongst the people of Gondor, it was said they were massive four legged beasts that stood from fifty to a hundred feet tall, it was ridiculous of course, but he had seen them before to know that their still big enough to cause a problem. "How many are we dealing with?"

"Each group usually consist of three to five of them" said the Captains loyal lieutenant, he contemplated this new development very closely, and with the orcs promptly attacking their borders and these Easterlings coming in to attack while they held them off they were a serious threat to the security Gondor. He needed to stop them from making any more incursions into his kingdom, he turned to Madril, and he walked up to him and whispered to him.

"How many rangers do we have in total?"

"Eight hundred, but we have few to spare, and those we can spare are in need of medical treatment, it's gotten worse since you left nearly a third of the rangers are wounded" replied Madril, keeping his voice low as Faramir's.

'Damn it', thought Faramir, he had no support out here, most of the men here were soldiers from the army, they weren't trained to work in these kinds of conditions for extended periods of time and travel several miles to ambush forces. That's why he had the rangers, they were fast and precise, and one ranger would do the work of five Gondor soldier in a battle, which is why Osgiliath has remained under their control for so long and why they have been able to repel any attack on their kingdom in decades past. With recent attacks he is going to be forced to divide his force in order to halt any more Easterling incursions into Gondor, he turned back to Madril to give his orders, but then he noticed something was wrong, there was something missing.

"The dwarf" murmured Faramir under his breath, remembering the reason he had come back to Osgiliath in the first place, he rushed back the way he came and peered around trying to find out where she was.

"Captain?" asked Madril, completely thrown off to the prince's odd behaviour

"The Dwarf" he breathed, looking of into the distances before turning to look in another.

"Sir?"

"The Dwarf, the dwarf woman that was with me" he urged, and then Madril remembered the small woman that was with him when he arrived.

"She must have wondered off sir, who is she?"

"Someone we cannot let out of our sight, I want the men to look for her, and when they find her bring her to me, understood" ordered Faramir

"Is she a threat Captain?"

"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out" he said as he turned to leave.

* * *

Sefri walked along a large broken wall slowly approaching the source of the noise that caught her attention, from what she could tell it was the sound of people groaning and moaning in agony, she knew this sound very well. Being a priest in the Argent Dawn had given her enough experience to know what a dying or injured man sounded like, she had on many occasions looked after injured Crusaders and nursed them back to health, and it was one of the sadder times in her life. She emerged from around the wall to see a large tent, or rather a large cloth sheet covering up the exposed roof of a building, with only a few pieces of wood and sheets to seal up the entrance and any other openings, but there were still opening all along the entryway.

Walking past a few soldiers she entered the tent to see inside were countless soldiers laying down on beds and the floor being treated, but the methods they used were something she could barely believe, she could see many of the soldiers had infected wounds and were actually dying of infection rather than their injuries, which were mostly non-fatal. How can these people be so clueless, they should know not to put these people in places where they were exposed to the elements, they should have tried to sanitise the air and used clean bandages and routinely rewrap their bandages. But all they did was put them on and then walk away, though it was some of the worst medical treatment she had seen she could see that there were few doctors inside and many patients, they simply couldn't treat everyone at once.

She moved over to the side of one of the cots and looked down at the sickly man before her, he had bandages around his left arm and most of his chest, and she could see the bandages were brown with dirt and wet from blood and puss from the infected wounds. His face was drenched in a cold sweet and his eyes were grey and tired, evident by the black bags under his eye, his wounds and illness had been keeping him from sleeping, he was in so much pain that even if he fell asleep from exhaustion he would likely be woken a moment later. Instinctively she moved to his side and pressed her hands against his chest, he wheezed in pain as she made contact, she closed her eyes and started to focus, first she would seal his wounds and then work on his infection.

She pressed her hands down and began to draw the power of the light through her hands, she could feel the energy build up in her, just waiting to be sent through her to the next willing person, as she pushed it out of her she felt it course through her arms into her palms and then into the man heart. For a moment she watched as his chest glowed dimly in the dark medical tent, she saw the light flow across his form starting from his chest and then moving down to the rest of his body, he sighed in comfort before he shut his eyes as he features began to return to a more healthy state. Sefri smiled knowing that she had taken away the pain that had been preventing him from knowing rest, she enjoyed that as a priest she could help the sick and injured, she looked down to his bandages and shook her head at the putrid mess they were.

She reached forward and started the remove them, seeing no further use in keeping them attached to the poor man's body any longer, she worked away on the arm first removing the sticky cloth as she peeled it away she could see the true reason behind the man's sickness. Most of the bandages were covered in dirt and blood, but there were patches which were green with bacteria and had actual fungal growth, if she hadn't arrived here when she did this man would be dead in less than a day or two. The lack of proper hygiene for this patience was criminal in her opinion, they simply stuck them in an old house and put a tarp up and then dressed the wounds and hoped for the best, where are the alchemists with remedies and doctors to administer treatment. Where these people so primitive that they simply batched them up and hope for the best, no they couldn't be that simple, although they did appear to be simple soldiers and likely didn't have any medical training what-so-ever.

As she finished removing the bandage she had to bite back a gasp of surprise, she didn't expect to find this under the filthy bandages when she removed them, when she healed him she expected that she would have healed his wound along with the infection. But before her eyes was a deep cut into his shoulder and another on his upper arm, she was completely shocked that her spell didn't seal up the wound, she put enough of her energy into it, didn't she? Then why didn't it work? Strange doubts began to slowly cloud her mind, had she lost her power? Was her connection to the light diminished? She looked at her hands and was afraid to try and call upon the light in fear of not being answered. But her dark musing was cast aside when she heard the familiar groan, she looked up to see dozens of more injured and wounded before her, some more sickly than the man she had just healed and others who were in near death.

Standing up quickly she stuck her hand into her pouch and searching through its contents, before pulling out a roll of frostweave cloth, as a healer and priest it was her duty to make sure she had as many different remedies as possible, she looked down at the injured man below her. She had at least enough frostweave to patch up a dozen or two soldiers, but that would leave the rest of these men with serious wounds and risk them dying of infection she had just cured, she looked down at the roll, she could get two or three people with single roll. She raked her brain thinking of a solution and if there were any shortcuts she could take, she had a lot of patients that needed immediate help and little resources, she looked down to the wounded man before her, he had three large wounds that needed to be healed up. She looked at the cloth in her hands, maybe she didn't need to use as much as required to heal him, and the bandages were meant to be used quickly so that the injured soldier can get back into the field as quickly as possible. But the bandage works by stimulating a wound to close itself; it can close even fatal wounds in a matter of minutes if enough of the cloth is applied, but even if she uses just enough to wrap the wound once it should heal him within a few hours or so.

Then something came to her, she reached into another pocket and pulled out a cylindrical canister filled with red liquid, a runic healing potion, this would be useful, this stuff was used by Vrykul to heal grievous wounds, and if it can get a beast like that who is on his death bed and back up like nothing had happened, this would work. In fact she didn't need to use it all, if she diluted it down with water or something these warriors can drink it, they wouldn't heal instantly but it would bring the worst case back from the brink. She turned to the man and got to work on healing him, she wrapped the cloth around his arm's wounds once and watched a small blue glow appear on the runes of the bandages, the healing spell enchanted into the cloth was starting to take effect, she then went on to wrap his chest making sure his entire wound was covered.

Once that was done she stood up and looked down the long corridor building seeing dozens more sick and hurt waiting for her to be treated, even though this was one of the worst field medical centres she has ever seen she smiled, she was glad that she would be able to put these men as ease and save lives once again.

* * *

Damrod along with five other ranger have been searching through Osgiliath for the better part of an hour searching for this Dwarf, he was told by Madril that she is of interest to the Captain and is to be brought to him, he had no idea why this dwarf was here. The fact it was a woman was a surprise was well, why would this woman be of interest to the Captain, he knew the captain would use any advantage he had under his belt to ensure that Gondor's borders remained safe. From what he heard from the men who were with Faramir when he went to Cair Andros was that they encountered a very powerful warrior, they said that this warrior had to power of light and shadow, they the orcs that went against the warrior were utterly decimated and that when a tower collapsed onto him he was unharmed. And also the fact this warrior was a woman shocked him, he thought they were playing a joke on him or he was hearing them wrong, but he heard the same story from close to a dozen others and they were exactly the same aside from a few minor details here and there. He along with about seven other groups had to find her and make sure she hadn't tried to escape or cause trouble, true she was a dwarf but they were known for their tempers, but he didn't expect one little woman to cause any trouble when surrounded by thousands of Gondorian soldiers.

"Do you think she's some sorcerer?" asked one of the Rangers behind Damrod.

"Hah! Yeah right, a dwarf that can use magic, that'll be the day" jeered the ranger next to him.

"What's your problem with dwarves?" asked the first Ranger

"Come on all they do is argue, fight and drink, I haven't seen one who has the patience to not do any of what I just said, and besides a woman, come on you should know better than that" replied the second.

"So just because she's a woman means she isn't capable of using magic?" inquired a third ranger behind the first two.

"Exactly, woman aren't meant to be in life or death situations or anything that requires a strong arm or resolve, they are completely unsuited for this kind of thing" said the second, earning him some disappointing looks as well as a few nods of agreement from others. Damrod ignored him completely, he didn't care one way or the other if his men didn't think woman could shoot an arrow or hold a sword, he was focused on finding this dwarf and figuring out what is so important about her.

As he passed by the medical tent he saw something odd, there were about eighteen people sitting outside chatting to one another, they were bandaged in thin blue bandages that looked to be only covering where they were wounded. Among them he saw Anborn, one of his rangers that was wounded just a few days ago in an orc raid, he was sitting comfortably speaking with the other injured as if nothing had happened at all, this wasn't right. Anborn was cut many times while fighting off the orcs and had an arrow lodged in his back as they retreated, the doctors told him that he was likely going to die, if not from his wounds them from infection. Manrod approached the ranger and he slowly got a closer look at his current state, he looked healthy, a bit skinnier than he was a few days ago but still alright, but what surprised him was the happy smile plastered over his face.

"Anborn, you alive I see" said the second ranger

"Ah, Mablung, good to see you" smiled Anborn, which surprised both Mablung and Damrod, they had known him for a long while, he wasn't the type of person to be all lively and smile, unless he was drunk or was in the presence of a few fair maidens. But sitting there they could see a genuine smile of satisfaction across his face, it was so strange that if they didn't know any better they would have said this man before then wasn't Anborn, what had changed a man that had such a dreary outlook on the world.

"Uh, Anborn are you alright" asked Damrod, looking at the ranger as if he had grown another head, to which Anborn looked at him as if he had done the same.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" he asked confused to his superiors question.

"Well look at you" he said gesturing to him completely, Anborn looked down and his gaze fell upon his bandages, with a chuckle he looked up and when he looked at the confused faces in from of him he laughed loud and raw.

"What the hell is so funny?" shouted Mablung over his hysteric laugh, after a few moments he composed himself before answering.

"I don't know" he simply stated with a smile

"You don't know?" asked Mablung, looking at him incredulously, before crossing his arms over his chest and continuing "How could you not know? What happened to you? You were near death"

"I know, for the last few days I have been feeling death slowly take me, I could feel my entire body ache and groan as I slowly die, but then something happened…" he said lowering his head, and smiling happily at the thought of it, this caught their attention, whatever it was that healed his wounds also did something to him to make him feel like this.

"What happened to you?" asked Damrod, his voice plain and hiding any sign he was curious about what had caused such a change in the ranger.

"I… don't know how to explain it" he started, chuckling as he looked for the right words to convey what happened to him "It felt like all the pain and misery I had was washed away, I felt my fever leave me and my mind became clear, It was like everything that was wrong with me was taken away, I have never felt so healthy and happy before. It's impossible to explain just how great I feel, I felt I was touched by something, something good, something holy"

They all looked at him sitting there completely content with himself, but how did he come to this, he was a polar opposite of who he was only a few weeks ago, he was never like this, he was always solemn and grouchy. They had no idea what caused his change or how he was in such good health, but they had a similar thought on that, whatever healed him was also the reason he was in such a good mood, turning away from him and to the entrance of the medical tent, which a few more people were exiting all as happy as Anborn.

Walking forward with his four subordinate's beside him he pulled back the tent flap, he turned back to his rangers and gave a light nod and they each had their hands on their swords, and entered the hospital, but he was surprised once again. From what he could see there were no injured or sick rangers inside, every single one of them was either sitting on their cot or was speaking to one another in small groups, it was more of a barracks rather than a field hospital. He looked from one group to another and each one he saw the same thing, they were healthy and smiling like a bunch of without-a-care-in-the-world fools, each was wrapped in the same blue leather bandages with the strange runes etched in them. As he moved past one he looked down to see that one of the men was still on his cot and was asleep, he walked over and examined him, and he checked his bandages to see the same rune bandage wrapped around where his wounds would be, but there was something different.

The bandages were glowing softly, a dim blue glow was emanating from the cloth and it looked like it was flowing into the person, he reached forward and touched the cloth, as soon as he did he felt a strange tingling feeling pass through the tips of his fingers. Pulling away he looked at his hand to see his fingers were completely fine, aside from one certain thing, his hands were always lined with splits and small cuts, and it was what usually happened when one does not use a glove when also using a bow. He had several small cuts and splits along his fingers and hands, but when he looked he saw that all of the splits on his fingers were gone, there were no sighs they were there anymore and the ones on his palm had healed, he was completely taken aback by what he saw. How was this possible? Was this some kind of magic that was enchanted into the cloth? That he did not know; his interest in the cloth was interrupted when a small glow shone down a corridor leading into another room of the field hospital.

Turning his eyes to witness a dazzling golden glow coming from down the hallway, even though it was only a glance he felt slightly awed by the golden glow, he rose to his feet his concern lessening as he walked closer to the source of the light. As he approached the doorway he saw the light slowly fade away, and as it backed away from view his pace quickened, as he grabbed hold of the doorway the light completely faded away, he swung around the doorway and into the room. Along the narrow corridor was a single row of cots leading down to a larger room, the cots all had patients in them, all were lying down peacefully and wrapped in the blue bandages, the same as the others he had come across, up ahead he saw a few of the medics looking over some of the recently healed patience.

"Incredible" one doctor said aloud, to which the other three nodded their heads in agreement.

"The speed at which this heals them and the zero mortality rate is remarkable" replied another

"Yes, but her ability to remove their infections was what interested me the most" said the Third "The light that healed them had to be some form of magic, there is no other explanation, she must be some sort of Magi or sorceress"

This went on between the doctors for a good few minutes before Damrod walked up to them and interrupted their little chat, he needed to know what was happening here and what this woman was doing.

"You four" he called to the four medics, who all stopped their chattering and turned to look at the approaching ranger, when they recognised who it was they all turned on their feet to address him.

"Sir, what can we do for you?" asked the Third doctor

"I want to know what's going on in here, yesterday every single patient in here was sick and wounded, and now their healthy, and I'm not just talking about their physical health as well." Stated Damrod, although a little suspiciously, there was a silence for a moment before the fourth and oldest member of the doctors stepped forward to address the ranger.

"The men are being treated" he stated

"How" questioned Damrod, though it was demanded rather than asked.

"I don't know exactly how to explain it" he started, rubbing his hand over his forehead trying to remember the event.

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Ago_

* * *

_Arantar looked over the sickly man, he could see he was near death, his best remedies and care could not stave off the inevitable end, he looked away from this single ranger to the dozens more that were lying in rows upon rows across the large room. Most of them were in the same condition as this man below him, they were wounded and suffering from a serious infection, because they were so heavily wounded they couldn't be sent back to Minas Tirith be treated, if this rate of deaths from wounds and disease continued then everyone in this hospital will be dead in less than a fort night._

_Lifting himself up from the side of the bed he turned away from the sickly soldiers and slowly walked his way to the exit, as he walked he tried to think of other things, doing his best to drown out the groans of pain and ill health. But it was for not, as he tried to escape the world around him, as he tried to hide in his own thoughts he still had to suffer as he mulled over the thoughts of losing so many good soldiers who would have had a chance if they had been able to return to Minas Tirith._

_He has been a doctor for nearly four decades now and not once has he felt so useless, he had saved many live and lost many over his long career, he knew that not all could be saved but he never believe that he would be unable to save anybody. With a silent groan of frustration he dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his eye and face trying to relive some of the tiredness and stress that marred it, he didn't notice the small dwarf that past by him and moved to the patient just to his right. As he removed his hand from his face he passed by a person that had been the main font of his grief, since he was admitted for a wound to his chest and stomach he had prepared for the worst, his young son lay before him, for the last two weeks he had been fighting to keep his son alive._

_But his wounds were deep and the infection had put him in intense pain, he had seem people die horribly from wounds inflicted in such ways, he was lucky he had survived this long, most don't make it through a week and all the rest die in a day or two afterwards. But he couldn't give up, even though he was putting his son through intense pain he couldn't not give him up, he had lost his other two sons in raids from Easterlings and orcs over the course of twenty years, he would not let his last son die. He was everything to him he would fight tooth and nail to keep him alive, he was a doctor by profession but he was a father in heart and consciousness, he looked down to his sickly boy and fearful if he was still alive or not._

_But what he saw came as a shock, he looked down to see that his previously white bandages had been replaced with a strange blue runic cloth; he looked completely healthy aside from the bandages that were just covering his wounds. He looked as fine as he did before he was even brought into the medical tent, what happened? Who changed his bandages? Who could have removed the infection? He didn't know what was going on, he had given specific instruction for all the doctors to not try and treat his son and leave him to me. Had one of them actually treated him and cured his ailment, 'impossible' he scoffed, they were nowhere skilled enough to treat his wounds and infection in such a short time, he remembered seeing his son an hour ago on his rounds and he was nothing like he was now. _

_He walked over to his side and kneeled down next to his bed, he placed his hand on his head to check if he was still ill, his son forehead was warm, but in an acceptable temperature range, and he looked completely find. He checked his breathing and saw he was breathing normally and with no signs of any hindrances, by all right he would seriously believe he was just sleeping, he looked down to his bandages and was surprised once more by what he saw, the cloth was actually glowing a dim blue. He pressed his hand against it to try and remove it, he feared that it might be some sort of evil fabric that may hurt his son, as he lay his fingers on it he withdrew them quickly as he felt a slight tingling sensation course through his fingers. Looking down he examined his hands, wondering if they were bleeding or had some form of bacteria or blisters present, but again surprise marred his wrinkly face, his hands which had seen years of hard work and wear, covered in cracks and splits, had been healed._

_His hands were completely unblemished, he ran his fingers together and felt his rough yet much smoother skin between his fingertips, he didn't know what had done this, he looked back down to the cloth and short of ripping it off from his boys wounds he peeled it back. He looked down to grizzly wound that lay beneath, he could see it stretched across his stomach, from waist to waist, but from last he checked it the wound wasn't as healed as it was now. He could see that it was starting to scab over and it was nearly half in size as it was a scant few hours ago, also the scab was also healing itself rather quickly as well, slowly, in a few minutes the red crusty scab slowly turned into a smooth pink surface before turning back into a more natural skin to tone. Incredible he thought, a simple cloth could heal wounds that would be nearly fatal was something that could saves hundreds if not thousands of lives, he rose to his feet seeing as his son was going to live, he needed to find out who had done this and if more of this cloth was available._

_As he turned he looked down at the man beside his son, he was also another grievously wounded ranger, but to his surprise he too was healed in a similar manner, the cloth was wrapped around where he was wounded and his skin was much healthier. He looked down the long corridor to see every single injured soldier had been treated in the same way; they were all covered in blue runic cloth and were definitely in better shape than they were a few hours ago, what happened? Who did this? He thought. Then in the corner of his eye he noticed a light glow, he turned on his heels quickly to see what it was, he thought it may have been a man with a torch but what he saw shocked him to his very core._

_Kneeling beside one of his rangers was dwarven woman with azure woven robes, they looked so fine that one would think her nobility, though her clothing was strange it was what she was doing that nearly brought him to his knees in disbelief. Her hands were glowing with a golden light, he had to squint his eyes a little to watch as she focus them into her hands before pressing them down onto the man, he watched as the light pass through the man and course through his form. The man took in a deep breath and looked as if he was about to shoot up out of the bed, Arantar was about to shout and try and stop her when the light faded and the man limply fell back down onto his cot, he looked at the man and saw he was completely fine, his skin was less pale and his breathing was no longer laboured._

_Rising to his feet he walked over to the woman, who was busy unbinding his bandages that were soaking with puss and dried blood, he looked down to her, his eye catching the shoulder guard on her right shoulder, a woman's face with a black blindfold that led to two sets of chains that bound the pauldron to her shoulder. He looked away from her and to the soldier who she was treating; he looked down at his wounds, an 'X' shaped gash, one running from his stomach up to his left shoulder and the other from his right shoulder to just below his left armpit, he could see no signs the wound was still infected and the wounds were no longer bleeding. She pulled out of her pouch a roll of the same bandages she used on the other patients; she un-wrapped a meter or so and covered the larger of the two gashes, as he watched he saw that she was only covering it with one later, he was taken by surprise by this._

_Most dressing require it to be wrapped around several times, but she was only using a single layer to hold the wound together and prevent it from bleeding, but from what he could tell the bandage worked differently than others. He remembered that when he checked his sons bandage there was only a few droplets of blood along it, meaning that the bandage seals up the wound fast enough for the patient not to bleed out, it was incredible, and he kept saying that exact phrase every moment he watched. When she finished with the bindings she slowly lifted herself off her knees and turned to leave for another patient, as she turned too walked away she lightly stepped into the elderly doctor, who stumbled slightly, even though she was smaller and looked frail she was quite sturdy._

"_Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there" she apologised to the elderly doctor, who straightened himself up and looked down at the dwarf._

"_It's alright" he brushed off, before looked over to the man she had just treated "How… how did you do that?" he pointed to his and then gestured with his hand "The man may not be in danger of dying, but he was gravely ill, how did you cure him?"_

"_I healed him with… my gifts" she halted herself near the end, she didn't want to tell him about the light, these people are different and telling them may not be a good idea, there was no telling if they were from some sort of radical faith or a completely anti-magical society. "Although I wasn't able to heal their wounds, I was able to remove their infections quite easily."_

"_I have never seen anything like it before, it would take weeks to treat an infection such as his if he were to survive his wounds, but that glow, what was it?" he asked with keen interest, his eye sparkled as he waited for her to answer his question. She simply smiled and in a smooth and gentle voice replied._

"_Magic" though it wasn't a total lie, it was far from the truth, she knew that the captain who brought her here was aware she could use some form of magic, but if she went and told him that her power is also paramount in a religion may cause some problems._

"_And I take it those bandages are as well" he said pointing the lightly glowing blue cloth that was wrapped around the ranger's torso._

"_Yes, Frostweave Cloth, cloth that is enchanted with healing properties, the more layers you add the faster your wounds heal" she said chirpily, smiling brightly down at the now healthier ranger below, she turned back to the elderly doctor and finished with a sad smile "Sadly I don't have much of it on hand, the cloth is only found in a certain climate and the ingredients to enchant it are even further away."_

"_You have done what we could not, you are saving lives" he looked away from her for a moment and down the corridor to the other patients, he saw his son among them, and as he moved further down he saw that every single one had been treated. He turned back to the woman, then he realised he may have made a terrible offense to the woman, he had not learnt her name yet, he stopped himself from his question of her treatment and asked for her name._

"_I am so sorry, I have not asked for your name, please forgive me"_

"_It is alright, The church of the Holy Light teaches us that forgiveness is something anyone deserve no matter what slight they may commit, as long as they are willing to make recompense for their wrongs, and my name is Serfi Anvilheart, healer and priest of the Argent Crusade" she said politely, but a moment later she realised she may have told him to much, even though he seemed like a reasonable fellow she had no idea what the standing religion in this place may be, for all she knew they may believe in a great and powerful pantheon of spirits._

"_I see…" he said at first before straightening himself up, she was a little worried that she may have caused some sort of offence when she told him about the religious implications of her profession. "My name is doctor Arantar; I would be honoured to know how you healed these people, so that I may help them in the same way"_

* * *

Present

* * *

Arantar looked up to Damrod and his smile was still present on his old face, he looked at the confused ranger and understood his puzzlement, he replied to him.

"She healed all these men with her power" he replied, his smile never leaving his face, but Damrod's face scowled lightly at the use of the word 'power'.

"What power? I need to know what it is" he asked quickly, he could see that even the other doctors were giving their senior curious looks, something was not right here in his eyes. But the old doctor simply shrugged before replying.

"I have little idea what it is, but it was…." Arantar stopped suddenly, almost lost, as if he couldn't find the right words to convey what he was describing, he stammered several times before he continued. "It's difficult to explain it, but the best I can come up with is: Holy"

"Holy?" asked Damrod incredulously, he was not the only one; he along with all other present, aside from the few sleeping patients, eyes the man in front of them with equal amounts of scepticism and suspicion. "Where is she?"

Before the old man could reply he saw a faint glow coming from behind the older doctor and around the end of the hall, the same glow he saw only a few moments ago when he first entered this corridor, he immediately pushed past the old man and intended to see this power for himself. Behind him were his rangers ready for anything, although they were nervous about the possibility of fighting against someone who could use magic and possibly subvert someone to her will, Damrod rushed around the corner and he prepared himself for a possible hostile encounter. But he was completely taken aback by what he saw; he saw a whirlpool of gold light whirling around the dwarven woman's hands and into the injured ranger's chest, he could see his chest rise from the bed and his face was contorted in relief.

A moment later the light faded away and dispersed from the dwarf's hands, she let out a pent up breath and went about removing his bandages, but Damrod was still shocked at the event that took part right in front of him. He had never seen anything like it before, the light it was memorising, when he looked into it he felt drawn in, he thought at fort it was some sort of manipulation spell used to control people, but he knew that was wrong, it was something else, something… holy.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, he couldn't allow himself to be blinded, and he needed to keep himself focused on why he was here. He was to bring this dwarf to Captain Faramir, he said that he had no idea if she was a threat or not, now he could see that her power could be almost anything, healing men's wounds and charming those around her, that could be a dangerous weapon. He slowly approached, keeping his eyes on the woman as she dressed his wounds with a familiar blue cloth, his hand on his sword and ready to use it at a moment's notice, behind him were his men quietly circling around the woman to surround her and attack if they needed to.

He reached her and stood at the end of the ranger's bed and gazed down at the dwarf, she was an interesting woman to look at, her long flowing crimson red hair was tied into a bun at the back of her head, and she looked fairly young as well. But that could easily be a miss conception, dwarfs lived for over two hundred years at least, there was no real way to tell how old she was based on her appearance alone. She had a smooth, reddish tinted, oval face that was quite pretty in the ranger's opinion, though he never thought much about the beauty of a woman while on duty; he had to admit the woman was a dazzling sight even without that magic she used. It was then that she looked up at him; he had a moment's agitation and gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, but before his worry took hold and his instincts kicked in she smiled up at him, a kind innocent smile graced her lips and he relaxed.

"Hello, it is good to see you again, Damrod, if I am not mistaken, how may I help you?" she said sweetly, her smile never leaving her, Damrod was taken aback by her angelic voice and the kindness that was felt with every single word. He looked down at her a little awkwardly, he had come here to take her back to Faramir, and he was ready to pull out his sword and likely attack her if she tried anything, he felt a little guilty about his actions just now.

"I…I have been asked to escort you to captain Faramir, please follow me" he said, stammering as he first spoke before finding him composure as he continued, motioning to the corridor he was in only a few moments ago. She looked up at him and nodded, her smile never faltering as she was escorted out by five armed rangers, even though she should be worried about what was happening she didn't seem at all worried of nervous. As they passed the doctors she stopped to look up at the Arantar, she moved away from the group and stood a few feet in front of him, both looking at one another, ones face with a tranquil smile and the other of forced calm, and then Sefri moved her hand to her pouch. The guards gripped their sword tightly and slowly drew them out of their sheaths, preparing to strike down the woman in front of them should she reveal some weapon, surprisingly it was Damrod who was the one who did not move his hand to his sword.

A second later the object came into view, the guards held their breath as they looked it over, a coil of blue cloth, they quietly sighed and pushed their swords back into their scabbards. Sefri looked up to the old doctor and gave him the cloth, he looked down at the enchanted bandages and after a moment's hesitation he took it into his hands, and he shuddered lightly at the unfamiliar feeling that accompanied the bandages upon contact. He could feel the power inside the cloth work its way through his hand and up his arm, he felt almost cooling as the strange energy coursed through his old bony limb, she said a final good bye and turned back to her escort and they continued on their way.

He watched as she went, and he couldn't help but feel worried for her, even though he had known her no longer than a few minutes, he could see the kind and good hearted woman she was, but beneath that he saw her for someone else. She was scared, not of the guards or the lands she was in, she was afraid of being alone, he could see it in her eyes when she walked in here, she was focused solely on her work, she was focused on saving these people lives. As she said she was a healer, she took comfort in taking away others pain, that was the type of person she made herself out to be, but even her kind voice and serene smile couldn't hide the concern in her eyes.

He may not know where she came from but he could tell when someone felt like they were the only person left in the world, he had seen it when he treated soldiers who were the only survivor of a battle, he had seen it when his wife lost both her eldest sons. He saw the pain and sadness etched into her from that loss, and when his last son left to join the rangers she couldn't hold back her pain anymore, for years that pain consumed her and when she finally let it free it was too late. She died only a few months later, broken and depressed over the loss of her two boys, she loved her youngest son as much as they but she could not bear the pain of losing two of her own flesh and blood, she saw herself as a failure for not being able to protect her sons.

Her loss was hard on him and because of that he vowed to make sure his family remained after he parted from this world, he may have only a few years left on this middle earth, but he would make sure in the time he had he would keep his son safe. He turned down to his sleeping son as he slowly woke up, groaning and tossing as he regain control over himself, while his father kneeled beside him and waited for his sons eyes to open, silently praying to the Father of All for sending his angel to save his son.

* * *

**Rohan, Village in Westemnet**

Morwen washed the red rag in the small bowl; she had been up all night cleaning, thought it wasn't the house or the floor she was scrubbing and washing, it was the woman who was now on her bed unconscious. She had been like that ever since she arrived, the only signs she was still alive were the groaning and occasional twitching, and it was a miracle that she survived that meteor, but how she survived it was a mystery to everyone in the village.

She looked over to the cabinet where her strange armour and weapon had been stored, the object looked magical and valuable, there was no way she wasn't just some woman from a village a few miles away, she had to be some sort of nobility. But the fact she was a woman was the questioning part about that, why would a woman have a sword and shield and be covered in oddly light armour, woman weren't warriors, it was up to the men to defend Rohan. She put down the bloody rag and moved over to the wardrobe and opened it, her eyes falling onto the woman's unique weapon and shield, she looked down to the sword that rested up against the breastplate, squinting her eyes slightly as she took in the dazzling light that shone off the blade.

It was a rather long sword, nearly a metre and a half long; the two foot long grip was made of bright cobalt stone, the pommel was a jagged sapphire that shone a deep blue, while a crescent shaped cross-guard that held within a finely chiselled sapphire socketed into the blade. The blade itself was a light greenish blue metal, the edge of the blade was marred by several nicks and blemishes showing it had been in use or damaged by the meteor, but the fuller was what caused the blade to shine like the sun. The blades surface was decorated with golden etching, it was a beautiful weapon to look upon and it took some people by surprise by the blades weight and elegance, some wondered how the woman was able to carry it.

When the door to her house opened she grabbed hold of the wardrobe doors and shut them quickly, not wanting anyone to get any ideas about selling off the woman's belongings, she turned to the door to see her daughter rush inside.

"Freda" said Morwen in frustration, not towards her daughter in general, but because of the long night she had spent with the woman cleaning her up and getting that armour off of her. "I told you to go feed the horses"

"I did mama, I was quick, I wanted to see the angel again" said the little Freda, smiling up at her mother, completely ignoring her unwholesome mood. At those words, Morwen frowned and sighed in frustration once again, how many times had she told her.

"Freda, she is not an angel, she is a normal woman, a very odd woman for that matter" she said, glancing over to the wardrobe, before looking back down at her daughter and continuing onto another subject. "Where is your brother, is he done feeding the pigs?"

"I thinks so, he said he was going off the get some wood" replied Freda, who glance around her mother and over to the doorway leading into her mother's room, where the mysterious stranger now resides. He mother caught onto what she was looking at and sternly told her.

"No, you cannot go inside, she's sleeping and I don't want you to disturb her, she needs her rest" looking down at the disappointed daughter, who was looking up at her with pleading eyes, her mother maintained her strict glare. This went on for a few moments before the young girl faltered and cast her head down in recognition, her mother scowled and relented even though she had won in the little battle of wills as it was. "Fine, you can see her, but only after I return from the market, and after you clean up the house, alright"

She nodded several times, her mother nodded once and then turned around and walked towards her bedroom, her daughter moved to follow but as soon as she moved a single muscle her mother stopped her dead in her tracks.

"No, after you clean the house, after" she said without stopping or looking at Freda, even without looking at her mother face Freda could feel the strict glare coming from her.

Morwen walked over to her bedside table and looked down at the small dishes full of used bandages and medicine, she had asked for the town's doctor for help, he was more than willing to do so, he came over and helped her through most of the night help the poor woman. They had worked tirelessly to remove her armour and treat the wounds beneath the golden metal skin that covered her, it was only when the sun rose that the tirelessness disappeared and was replaced with fatigue. She looked over to the young woman that lay prone on her bed, her body oddly pale, her entire body save for her face was snow white, she must have always worn armour, but even though she looked oddly pale she could not deny she was attractive.

Her pale heart shaped face was flawless; there were no cuts or bruises unlike most of her body, though there were signs of several faint scars, her golden hair lay lightly beneath her, reaching near the bottom of her shoulders. Though she was hurt and beaten her hair and face was never touched, which seemed to be the reason why so many people were mesmerised by her appearance last night when she was brought here, completely ignoring her armour and focusing on her beautiful appearance. She looked down at the wounds that were now covered by layers of white cloth, it had taken nearly all night to get her wounds sealed up and bandaged, she was in bad shape had they not arrived at all it was likely she would have died from her wounds. At least that is what the doctor believed.

Turning away from the woman she reached down and pulled out a small bag from under her bed, it chimed when she gripped it tightly, she opened it to look at the contents, she frowned slightly, and she didn't have much left. Even since her late husband passed on they have been forced to rely on making their own income, he died nearly a year ago in a wild man raid on the village, he along with several others were killed driving them off. She felt a tear well in her eye when she remembered that fateful day, but she forced it back and blinked rapidly to remove the offending droplet, she loved her husband dearly and his loss was hard on her as well as her children. Her son took it very hard, he hates the wild men with a passion and she fears if he was ever to see one he would do something foolish, she took in a deep breath and calmed herself down. She rose to her full height and turned on her heels and moved to the door, but she stopped when she heard a light groan, turning she looked back to her new resident, she expected her to still be asleep not slowly lifting herself up.

"By the… wait stop" exclaimed Morwen, rushing to the woman's side, trying to stop her from getting up and out of the bed. "Please, you hurt you need to rest, you're in no condition to walk"

"Have to… stop… him" said the young woman, her words were light and far in between each other, Morwen looked into her eyes and saw the desperation in them "Can't… let… him… destroy… Azeroth"

A moment later she collapsed back onto the bed, struggling lightly to lift herself back up, her eyes slowly blinked themselves shut and she was unconscious again, Morwen was still as she looked down at the woman. She couldn't believe she was moving, let alone awake after the wounds she received, she had been hit by a falling star and a few hours later she was awake and trying to get out of bed, and to do what save… what was it she said?

'Azeroth' she thought, not familiar with the word, was it her home? Her village? That Morwen could not answer, but from the looks she saw in her eye she could tell that whatever was happening there must be very terrible if she was willing to try and leave here in that condition. She sighed in recognition and lifted herself off the side of the bed and moved to the door, she had things to do, but she some idea on whom this woman might be now, she said something about a place called Azeroth, it could be her home, or maybe her country. She would ask around to see if anyone had heard of it, and maybe send a letter to the nobility to inform them they have an injured noble in their midst, one who needs medical attention, 'but before all that', she thought scrunching the bag of coin in her left hand, 'I need to get some food for later tonight'.

* * *

**There you have it Chapter 05, not too shabby huh**

**Also on another note, have you ever come up with an idea, which is so epic, that if it was made into a move or game it would be the greatest thing you would ever see? Well I have come up with something along those lines, I am planning something very big and very epic and I need your help, I want to make something that few others could hope to accomplish.**

**A grand tale that spans many subjects: war, diversity, unity, honor, betrayal, humanity, change, I want all these things, and I may have a way to do that, I intent to make an epic mass crossover, not two or three not even four, as many as I can think off and as many as I can familiarise myself with. And for that I will need some help, though I can't go into too much detail, I will say this, only the greatest will take part in this grand tale, and therefore I need people to give me some motivation aswell as some material. Give me what you think would work well in a massive story and if I believe that you believe in me then I will write it with all my soul.**

**Regards, Jimmyjamster728**


	9. Chapter 07: Battle of the North - Part 1

**Hello everybody**

**Here is the latest chapter in my marvelous story, if that is your opinion on it anyway, do you guys actually read this? I do, though not on my own stories that would be kind of weird _ Yeah nothing weird here.**

**Anyway enough of my insane rambling, (I like turtles, *manly giggle*) here is the latest chapter of my marvellous story, wow, Deju Vu.**

**Copyright Notices:**

**World of Warcraft is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.**

**The Lord of the Rings Trilogy:**

**The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1954, 1966**

**The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien © George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd 1955, 1966**

**Chapter 07: Battle of the North - Part 01  
**

* * *

**Kingsfell**

Mairne looked up at the morning sun as it slowly rose over the mountains to the east, he enjoyed the feeling as the sun's rays warmed the fur on his face, he had been travelling through the night across the rolling plains. He felt his eyes grow heavier, he had not slept in many days, not since the second day of the assault on Ulduar, but that want truly sleep just a small reprieve before they could continue, the day when they were to be called to Ulduar, which was the last time he was allowed to rest his eyes. He took in a deep breath and fought back the weariness and pushed on, he had to reach Lin Giliath, sadly he did not have much knowledge of the area and because it was nightfall he had little to no idea where he was going.

For the better part of the night he travelled at a snail's pace, not willing to go too fast and risk going past where his destination lie, but now he truly had no idea where he was, he could only see green plains with the occasional tree or rock formation. He sighed in frustration, both at the fact he knew not where he was and that the weariness he had shaken off was starting to return, before looking over to a small rock formation on a particularly large hill, he looked at it and began his hike towards it, the faster he found out where he was the faster he can find where he needs to go.

He climbed up the gentle slope with ease, as he did he saw that he was now on much higher ground and had a good view of the surrounding area, he could see for miles in nearly every direction. To the west he saw mountains across a wide river, the were high and spanned a great distance, he followed them along their course until he was facing the south, there was no way he would be able to cross them or the river that separates the plains from the mighty peaks. He may be a Shaman but his abilities were also detrimental to his current physical and mental status, he was tired and weary and so his abilities would suffer, that is why he needed to find Lin Giliath, not because he needed to find out where he was but also to find sanctuary and get the much needed rest he so desperately needed. As he looked over the grasslands, searching for any signs of a village or settlement, he noticed something not too far from his current position, it looked like a small fort set up near the bank of the river, and he could see small specks like ant moving around the camp, was this Lin Giliath? He was told that it was a sanctuary controlled by elves, and from what he knew about the elves of his world, they were the type to have exquisite comfort even in the most rugged of environments, with that logic he seriously believed that the fort south west of his current position did not belong to the elves.

Mairne had no idea if his logic was sound or not, but he would find out when he got down there, cracking his tired bones and loosening his overworked muscles he slowly walked down the hill and towards the camp, prepared to greet the good people there or fight them off should he need to. He felt a surge of mana pass through his body and he readied himself to use his power if necessary, but he hoped that what he found down there were good innocent people, and not some blood thirsty animals looking to carve him into mincemeat and eat him. He had enough of that when he was a calf, and the last thing he wanted was to be some other beast morning meal.

* * *

**Kingsfell, Gurzlum**

Brethilwen held her breath as another orc passed her cage; she looked up at the slimy brown skinned beast as it walked by, eyeing her as it did, she couldn't help but feel like her death was only moments away. For all she knew he was coming over to get her or one of the other prisoners and cook them up for breakfast, she had seen them take out prisoners and actually take them over to the small huts and carve them up. It was horrible hearing them screaming as they were brutally chopped to pieces, they didn't actually kill them when they cut them up though, their leader had said: 'if they didn't die when they chopped off a limb or two they could have the rest tomorrow'.

She shuddered as she remembered the last victim who had been put through that torture, the young man had both of his legs removed, with one severed at the knee and the other closer to his pelvis, she remembered the bone that still was sticking out of the man's body. She had to listen as he cried out in pain for hours before the next day he was taken and finally put out of his misery by the savage beasts, but this had been going on for days now, they had been here nearly a week and the only sustenance they received was water and the scraps of rotting meat that was once their fellow prisoners. They would rather starve to death than partake in the very flesh of people they knew, they may be starving and traumatised beyond relief but they would not commit such an act. They were close to death, and she wondered if out the eight that were left: whether they were going to die from starvation or from being cannibalised by these beasts, she turned to see the orc open the cage to the woman just next to her; who screamed and frantically tried to get away.

The orc wrapped his hand around her thigh and dragged her out of the cage, she struggled with all her might to get free, but in the end it was futile for even if she escape him others would just catch her, Brethilwen hoped that she would die of shock or blood loss rather than have to endure a day of agonising pain of having her limbs removed. No one deserves to have that happened to them, no one deserves to suffer like that, closing her eyes she could only prey to the Valar that she would be granted mercy from the savage beasts. A loud shriek of pain caught her attention, not from any of the prisoners but from an orc, mainly from the orc who now was clutching his hand as his former prisoner was rushing off towards the gate, she could see trickles of black blood from her mouth from the orc she bit. She weaved around a small group of orcs and goblins as they tried to capture her, but she was too fast for them and avoided them with some effort, she neared the gate and Brethilwen preyed she make it, so she would at least be safe and maybe tell those at Lin Giliath of their plight.

As she was about to step across the border between the camp and Kingsfell she was stopped, a hulking orc grabbed her arms and stopped her immediately, one hands clamped around her forearm and another around his massive axe. Brethilwen hopes disappeared as soon as that beast had its hands on her, there was no hope of escaping now, there was no hope for rescue, but she had come to terms with that fact as soon as she had been captured, but she could never lose hope that they might be rescued. She looked up to see the woman fighting frantically to free herself from the beast's grip, who in turn roared at her indignantly, and then it raised his axe up, its intention clear to all who were watching.

The woman tried more than ever to free herself going so far as to actually claw at the beast flesh, but it did nothing but anger him further, then with sudden jolt back he prepared to let his axe come down. Brethilwen watched as the woman's face turn from fear to utter acceptance of her fate, she was completely frozen like a statue, ready to be shattered and have no emotion or qualm of it transpiring, it was a horrid thing to watch someone die. Brethilwen wanted to close her eyes, she had heard and seen enough of it to know what it was entailed, but she could not take her eyes of Gandelin, one of her closest friends, who was now about to meet her end. Slowly the axe neared her head, time slowed down for those who watched, almost like someone was mocking then into watching her die slowly, they may not want to witness her end but the fact her death would be quick was something different from the slow torture the other suffered in their final moments.

But then in an instant, as the orcs axe was a mere inch from her head, he was tossed aside by an unseen force, he flew across the camp gliding through the air like an arrow, before hitting the ground and digging a small shallow trench as he slid along the earth, to everyone present it was one of the most peculiar things they have ever seen. They looked down at the dead orc, which was easy to understand now seeing as the instrument that ended his life was clearly visible; a large ornate hammer was embedded in the side of the orc head, having nearly half of its skull caved in on itself. The hammer in question was a finely crafted weapon, its head triangular in shape, on each side of the hammer were two faces that spewed out an eerie blue glow from their mouths, and in the centre was the largest blue sapphire she had ever seen in her entire life. The weapon was large and its handle looked like it was meant to use both hands to wield, which made sense seeing it was a large and cumbersome weapon indeed, there was nothing that could so easily hold up such a massive hammer without using both arms.

Then the hammer began to shake and pivot wildly, as if it was trying to release itself from crevice it dug in the orcs head, then in an instant it shot out and flew back in the opposite direction that it came. It flew straight and true, spinning as it moved through the air as if it had been thrown, and moving right towards Gandelin, who was still immobile in her previous position aside from her head which had only turned to look at her would be executioners corpse. As the hammer whizzed past her head she did not blink or acknowledge its passing, so shocked she was that she was alive that she did not know what to do, she was prepared to die, she had actually come to terms with it, and now that she was going to live she didn't know what else to do.

The hammer stopped short of the gate, caught in the grip of an unknown being, all eyes turned to see what had killed the orc and when they did their eyes went wide and their mouths went wider in the awe of what they were looking at. Standing at the gate was a giant of a creature, stranding just over eight and a half feet tall, covered in thick robes which were in turn covered in sheets of metal and chain, he appeared to be confined within his own clothing. He had a massive build, his muscles though not clearly seen under his clothing, his immense size took precedence over all others as the orcs and prisoners gazed up at him, he was nearly a metre broad. His face was that of a bull, thick long horns jutted from his head and went nearly as side as his shoulders, which were bases for the two massive pauldrons that looks as if a burning forge was present within, and his braided beared just visible behind the chained pendulum that hung from a strange metal jaw plate.

"Hey, give us back our dinner" shouted one of the orcs, grabbing his weapon along with the others to fight off this new threat, but the massive beast looked at them with what she could only surmise as boredom.

"You pathetic vermin, to disregard another individual's value for something as petty as food, you are an affront to every sentient being; you do not deserve to walk this world, thinking you are above those who have more right to live on it than you" he said in cold coarse voice, eyed the orcs in front of him with disgust, his only response from them was their cries of outrage and the flurrying of their weapons before they attacked.

Taking a step forward Mairne put his hand on the woman's shoulder, knocking her out of her reverie and forcing her gaze onto the massive being that looked down at her, with a quick tug he pulled her behind him and order her.

"Leave now"

Turning away from the woman Mairne faced down the dozen or so orcs that came at him, he took note of their positions and their armaments, he grabbed his shield from his back and prepared to defend himself. The first orc attacked, wielding a large morning star above his head, Mairne struck before the orc could, shooting his hammer forward into the orcs chest, its torso caved in under the force and threw the beast back a few metres. Turning he intercepted another mallet with his shield, with a light thud it made contact it was the only reason Mairne knew they connected, pivoting around he swung his shield aside, knocking the mallet aside, and swung Stonerender at the orcs vulnerable head. A second later the hammer went from one side of the orcs to the other, completely obliterating it's skull in a shower of bone and brain matter, Mairne stopped his hammer quickly and with an overhead swing he brought it down on top of the orc that approached from behind.

It raised its sword in some feeble attempt to stop the large hammer from connecting, but it shattered under the force of the strike and continued on towards the orc head, Mairne watched as his hammer shattered the cow skull helm that encased the orcs own head, before its own skull in turn followed suite. His hammer became lodged in the orcs chest but with a mighty tug it was freed, ready to deliver death to his next foe, to his front they came, two heavily armed orcs, both covered in chain mail and their arms and legs in plated armour, they swung their axes high intending to try and attack at two different points. Mairne saw through their attack easily, rushing forward to interrupt their attack prematurely, blocking the first one with his shield, with his shield holding off the first he attacked the second beast with his hammer, driving it into the beast face and sending it staggering backwards. Twisting his shield in a single motion he knocked the firsts orcs axe above its head, leaving it open to the hammer that it swung up and into its jaw, when his hammer made contact he head the sure signs of bone breaking and a heavy groan of pain before the orc fell back dead.

Another skull crowned orc leapt over the recently deceased and stabbed his blade at Mairne, quickly reacting he used his shield and batted the sword out of the way and twisted around the orc quickly, Mairne elbowed the beast in the back of the head. Knocking it to the ground disoriented, Mairne only glanced back at it before turning to watch the other advancing orcs, without looking Mairne raised his hoof before quickly stomping it down on top of the orcs head. Leaving only a small red stained depression in the ground where the orc head once was, Mairne grimaced at the feeling of something squishy and wet in between his hoof, he mentally sighed, he was likely going to have to pick the things brains out between his hoof later. He turned back to see about five more closing in on him, quickly taking in the situation he rushed forward to meet them, gripping his hammer and readying his shield.

Jabbing his shield forward his stopped the flail mid-swing, it stopping just as it was about to pass over the orcs head, then with his hammer he jabbed it into the orcs chest sending him flying back with a collapsed chest. He turned to his left and right quickly to see two orcs charging him with swords; turning to his left he knocked the sword off course with his shield before turning abruptly onto the other orc to knock his sword off course with his hammer, nearly knocking it out of the clumsy beast's hands. Turning back to the first attacker he followed up with a swing of his hammer to the orcs neck, he was forcefully driven into the ground with a heavy crash, his neck now having the consistency of a wet noodle. Turning for a third time, back towards the second orc, he followed up with a backward swing of Stonerender to the back of the orcs skull, the skull caved in on itself and his head turned into a cascade of gore.

Attacking from behind the now decapitated orc were two more orcs, one holding a sword and the other a large axe, quickly analysing their intentions and planning out a counter he shot into action. Rushing at the first orc he knocked the sword away with his hammer before bypassing the first and going for the second, caught off guard the axe wielder did not have enough time to raise his weapon as the hammer made contact with his stomach. The orc lurched forward from the strike but before Mairne delivered the final blow he turned to the first orc who was in the process of turning to attack, quickly pivoting on his hooves he brought back his hammer and swung it hard at the turning orc. Despite the force behind the strike only half of the sword orcs head was pulverised, it spun on its feet before falling to the ground like nothing but a sack of meat, he turned away from the falling orc he delivered an upward swing with his weapon into the face of the second orc, who was still reeling from the first strike. His body shot up and fell back to the ground heavily, but his head was sent flying even higher after the hammer dislodged it from the rest of the orc body, its head landed a few moments later, its face too mangled to clearly tell what creature it once resembled before it was pulverised.

Mairne caught out of his peripheral vision a single orc with a one handed sword held above his head, from what he could see from the creature he was smaller and less built than most of the other orcs around here. He effortlessly caught the beast sword with his gauntleted hand before twisting it out of his grip, the orc tried to retaliate but Mairne subdued him easily, wrapping his three large fingers around the orcs neck he lifted him up and eyed him critically.

"Why are you here?" asked Mairne plainly, he didn't need answers but he still wanted to know why these creatures are rampaging across the land and killing innocent people as well as eating them.

"Because it's easy picking" was his only answer, his voice was shrill and slimy, Mairne narrowed his eyes and then tightened his grip, choking the orc slowly before following up with a second question.

"How many more of you creatures roam these lands?"

"Hundreds" said the orc with a sick smile across its face, before cackled manically, Mairne finally silence the creature by snapping its neck, and he threw its lifeless body away before surveying the area around him.

He could see the area was completely barren aside from a few roofed off huts, which were just small umbrella shaped covers, as he continued to looked around the barren lot he noticed the small group of cages off near a small dirt slope leading up to a higher area. Inside he could see seven prisoners who looked like they had no eaten for the better part of a week; he slowly approached placing his shield on his back and his hammer onto his latch on his waist. As he stood by the cage the people inside were scrambling away from the Shaman, he could understand their fears, they had been locked up by these beast for no other use than food, something that can kill them and is a complete unknown must be truly terrifying for them.

He looked down at the lock and grabbing it he easily ripped it free, he removed the lock and then opened the door, he looked down at the scared woman inside and he regarded her for a moment, she had ragged purple robes that were torn and covered in mud. She had lightly pale skin and brown hair, which was un-neatly styled in a bun, she looked up at the Tauren before her and her face showed only a single emotion, fear, mentally sighing Mairne turned and made his way to the other cages and broke the locks.

* * *

Brethilwen watched the massive figure above her, staring down at her with no emotion recognisable on its face, she felt complete terror form in her stomach as she gazed up into his black eyes, she had watch him dispatch those orcs with lethal efficiency that was completely alien to her. He had actually struck them so hard that he actually removed their heads either whole or as nothing more than shredded meat, it was truly horrifying for her to look up at him and wonder what he intends to do to her. But as he looked at her she caught sight of a small change in his posture before he turned away and moved on to the other cages, with his bare hands he removed the metal locks and freed the prisoners inside, but none moved to leave. They were too scared to leave the confines of their cages which was what they likely though was the reason he had not tried to enter, when he stood outside for a moment and looked at them to see them staring at him, he studied them all for a moment longer before turning to one of the dead orcs.

He picked up its sword and everyone thought of what the beast was planning as it moved back towards the cages, most thought he intended to use the sword to get them out, but when he drove it into the ground a few feet away their theories were completely proven wrong. He then reached down and pulled out from under one of his robes compartments a bag, a small travel pack that seemed to be brimming with content, he hung the strap around the swords cross guard and let the bag hang there by it strap. He opened the bag and pulled out a single object, they all squinted to make out the red orb that was in his hand, then they all went wide eyed and their mouths drooled as they laid eyes in it, it was an apple.

They had not eaten a single thing since they arrived here and he was holding something each of them craved for, some good food that wasn't human or elvish meat or filthy water, yet their worry and fear had a hold over them and they dared not leave their cages. The Shaman noticed this and with no apparent apprehension he walked away towards the small dirt ramp leading up to the high ground of the orc camp, all the while Brethilwen and the rest were watching him leave, leaving behind the bag, which was likely full of food. A minute later he had climbed up the ramp and was out of sight, and as soon as he was one of the others shot out of the cage and ran to the bag, Brethilwen turned to see Baltheron rushing over to the bag and just as quickly rummaging through its contents before pulling out a fresh green pear.

"Baltheron what are you doing!" hissed another prisoner, Brethilwen did not know his name along with several others, Baltheron turned his head back to his friend who still was hiding in his cage and took a bite of the juicy fruit, which put emphasis on what he was doing.

As soon as he did this another person rushed out and moved over to the bag, but not before turning over to the ramp to see if the strange monster that had invaded the camp was watching or waiting, she looked through the pack and pulled out a single apple and chomped down on it immediately, savouring the taste only a moment before swallowing and taking another greedy mouthful of the fruit. Then one by one all the others slowly exited their cages and to the bag taking out whatever food they could find within and eating it quickly and without formal restrain, they all savoured the taste of fresh food for a good minute, but when the sound of orc hollering as well as metal clashing against metal they knew they couldn't remain.

One snatched up the bag and as he ran he turned around running backward to motion everyone to follow him, they did so immediately discarding their either unfinished food or husks before giving chase, as they rushed towards the exit only one stayed and watched. She did not know what the reason she stayed was, maybe it was gratitude for the food, maybe it was because he had saved her friend, or maybe she believed he wasn't here to hurt them, whatever the reason she slowly walked up to the ramp to see what was happening above. She could hear the ringing of steel clashing together which echoed with the screams of pain and death from defeated orcs, a sound she found oddly soothing to her elongated ears, as she climbed up the wide slope she had to fight to keep her balance as the long confinement had prevented her from use of her legs.

As she reached the top of the slope she came across a sight of carnage, scattered across the rise were the bodies of possibly dozens of orcs and goblins, there were shattered body and severed limbs and headless corpses stealing the view of the ground below. What little ground that could be seen between the disgusting corpses was drenched in black blood and discarded weapons, the sight of so many bodies was shocking to her, and even though they were orcs the amount of savagery performed here was unsettling. The sound of crashing steel caught her attention and she looked up to see the great hulking beast swing his hammer high to obliterate an orcs head, sending its body souring upward before collapsing back onto the ground wilted, before turning abruptly to strike another orc to his side, shattering its shield and moving on to its head. Its feet were uprooted from under it by the force of the blow, its body doing a twirl as its head smashing into the hard ground, then he turned again, his movement precise and skilful for something one would consider an animal.

His shield coming down on top of a sword intended to stab him in the back, which now had been knocked out of the orcs hands leaving it defenceless, before following up with his hammer to smash in the orcs ugly head, the hammer forcing its entire body to the ground, where the orcs head was viced between a rock and a hard place. All the while Brethilwen watched his display of martial prowess with awe, she had never seen someone face down so many orcs before, and he was taking on an entire camp of the beasts and beating them with little difficulty, there were few she knew that could even boast at being able to do such a thing. Then in an instant there was silence, she heard no more clattering of steel or shrill cries of dying orcs, she looked up to see a lightly winded towering hulk standing in the middle of a field of dead orcs, his hammer drenched in black blood that smothered its ornate appearance, she wondered now if it was a good idea to be here.

A moment later he turned around to face her, he looked at her with what she could only perceive as plain acknowledgement of her existence, she stared back with a visible sense of worry, to which the bull seem to notice before lowered his head and sighed. When he raised his head again there was a flicker in his eyes, she wondered what it was at first, and when he tensed up and looked like he was about to rush at her she backed up instinctively to run away, but when she smacked into something behind her she was caught in the tight grip of a large orc. Brethilwen looked up to see a badly bleeding orc who was glaring at the massive bull creature ahead of them, who looked on with a veil of stoicism, she cursed herself mentally for coming up here, she was an idiot to think she would be alright.

"Drop them!" shouted the orc, indicating with his sword to the other creatures weapon and shield, the bull looked down at his weapon and them back at the orc, then her turned to look over his shoulder to see about five orc slowly walking towards him weapons raised.

Mairne analyzed the situation, he was in trouble, he was in a hostage situation and if he didn't comply with the orcs order he would likely lose the hostage, he looked at her and saw she was nearly in tears. The threat of death in this camp and taken away her hope and now that she had been freed only to be placed back into that situation she had just escaped was likely to much for her, Mairne looked at the orc holding the woman captive as he threatened to skewer her with his sword. Mairne closed his eyes in sign of defeat and tossed his weapons to the ground, he looked up to see the orc grin manically and shouted to his comrades to attack, but even though he did not have his hammer he was not defenseless, as long as the elements were with him, a shaman was never defenseless.

Brethilwen stared down the hulking creature for a moment, he had sacrificed his weapons and protection and now was beset by five orcs, how was he going to survive against them, he must be planning something, a surprise attack maybe. But the sight of his lowered head told her everything, he was going to sacrifice himself for her sake, when that dawned on her she looked up at her captor and saw his evil grip and she felt concern welt in her stomach at the orcs words.

"Kill him!" he shouted to the other five, all of whom hollered in glee at finally bringing down the beast that had killed all their comrades, they rushed at him their weapon ready to carve him apart for his slight against their small army.

She watches as they drew closer to the defenseless warrior, she couldn't help but lean closer to watch as he stood immobile as they rushed forward to kill him, 'what is wrong with him', she thought, 'do something! Fight back!' They were all upon him, some has their swords above their heads and were beginning their decent down into the creatures unguarded back, others were planning on severing his arms or striking his legs, Brethilwen watched in complete horror as his imminent death approached. She couldn't take it, she wept openly for the first time since she came here, she did not cry when her fellow kind were taken away or when she decided that this is likely where she was going to die, she had been freed and fed by him and now he was going to die for her. How could she not weep for such a kind soul, she didn't know it until she heard her own word, she screamed out for him.

"Save Yourself!"

Then for a flicker of a moment time almost slowed down, she looked on at the bull ahead of her and saw not fear or acceptance in his fate, she looked into his eyes and saw a single glint of mischief that was accompanied with what can only be understood as a smirk. Then the next moment she heard him utter a phrase under his breath, so light was it that she could barely hear it on the wind, the words 'Fire Nova' carried on the wind, and as soon as it was spoken the world in front of her was engulfed in a pillar of fire. From the bulls pauldrons she saw a spark of fire and then it ignited into a massive torrent of flames that engulfed everything within ten feet of him in fire, the waves of heat that flew out of the inferno was almost unbearable, she could feel her eyes burn and her lips crack from the sudden dryness that enveloped the surrounding area. The orc holding Brethilwen had discarded her as soon as the flames erupted, he backpedalled to escape the raging heat, but as he reached the slope the flames began to die down, leaving only a large circular bonfire remaining.

Brethilwen watched as the flames consumed the area in front of her with little care, fire had no soul or purpose other than to consume all that it can and die when it had done so, she looked on shocked that the man had actually sacrificed himself. What was he hoping to happen, that the orc holding her was to let her go and she could run away, that was foolish even if she could he would likely run her down before she made it the to the gate, he wasn't some stupid brute there had to be more to this than him just dying in a blaze of fire. Then it caught onto her, how did that fire start? Before she could try to even discern the answer something stepped out of the flames, a massive hulking figure clad in reddish brown robes, his entire form unharmed by the flames as he stepped through them.

She gawked at the figure before her, hammer in hands as well as his shield, showing no signs of discomfort or injury from the fires that raged behind him, he looked over to the retreating orc with fiery eyes that dwarfed the inferno behind him. So fearful the orc had literally lost its ability to run, which would only end with its inevitable end, and then the giant bull with a dismissing motion of his hands had extinguished the fires as easily as a brushing away a person wipes away dust. The fact that the being in front of her was some sort of warrior was completely wrong, he was a sorcerer of some sort, a very very powerful sorcerer, to control the elements as he did was a feat that could possibly only be matched by an Istari of Saruman's calibre. To think that such an inhuman creature could possess abilities that would make other magic wielders look like nothing more than cheap frauds in a magic show, he slowly raised his hammer and pointed it towards the orc, who was standing there completely terrified out of his mind.

Then energy began to swirl around the bull's hammer, electricity jumped out of the weapon and collided with all that was around it, then with not but a whisper he spoke "Chain Lightning" then from his weapon shot out a bolt of lightning. Brethilwen watched as the blue bolt of energy raced towards the orc, it ripped through the air like a crack along a window, small sparks of electricity shooting off the main current and impacting onto whatever was conductive. When it impacted the orc a massive explosion of blue light enveloped the beast, dozens if not hundreds of streaks of electricity shot out from the orcs trembling body, it did not cry out in pain but simply was rendered mute by the intense agony it was enduring. For a moment it continued on like this before the lightning stopped, leaving only a slightly crackling hammer and a charred orcs husk that remained standing, then the orc fell to the ground dead, its body twitching still as the electrical current still flowed through its corpse.

For a moment Brethilwen looked between the Shaman and the dead orc, completely thrown off what she should be focusing on more, the large and powerful being a few feet away from her or the remains of his latest victim he utterly destroyed with the elements themselves. She looked up to the bull and saw into his deep blue eyes, she had not noticed them before, when she first saw him she mistook them for nothing but black orbs of nothingness, how wrong she was, this creature before her was more than just some savage with powers. He had saved her along with her friends from what would likely be a grizzly fate, he had given them food and then relinquished his weapons and protection for the sake of her own safety, he was not a monster, and he was a kind hearted soul who cared about the lives of other. She then noticed the large gauntlet in front of her, a massive three fingered palm opened up before her, she looked at it and followed it to the source of who it belong to, looking up to deep blue eyes of the creature before her.

She hesistantly took the armoured glove and he pulled her to her feet, when she was on her own two feet he retracted his hand, he then looked her over, eyeing her from head to toe as if trying to discern what the creature in front of his was. She was a little nervous being under his scrutinise eyes, when he stopped he looked her in the eyes, she was tempted to take a step back to the creature that towered over her, but she felt almost certain he would not harm her.

"Are you alright?" he said, his voice deep and booming, showing even though asking a simply question he had authority and a commanding presence as well as voice.

"Yes, I'm fine" she stammered out, not sure how to respond to what she thought was a bellowing cry.

"Good" was all he said, he looked to his left and right before turning fully towards the ramp, before walking off leaving her, she was slightly dumbfounded by his actions just now.

"Wait, where are you going?" she asked, although her voice was trembling slightly, not really certain she should be asking something that could literally squish her beneath it foot. It turned around and stared at her a moment before replying, its voice plain but still carrying the strong tone as it seems to have.

"There is a settlement to the south, I intend to go there and ask for aid"

"Wait you mean Lin Giliath?" Brethilwen asked her worry and stammering removing itself from her speech as she continued her conversation with him.

"Yes, I was told that the people there may be able to help me"

"I'm from Lin Giliath" she spoke softly, to this the Shaman's brow rose slightly. "I can take you if you want"

He said nothing, only giving her a single nod before turning around and continuing to walk away, she saw this and took after him, rushing over to his side which was likely the only safe place to be right now, after all who could fight an eight foot tall fire and lightning wielding warrior. A troll maybe, but what were the odds one would pop up.

* * *

**Kingsfell, Borders of Meluinen**

She walked beside the massive warrior, casting a glance or two at his unique armour, she had never seen anything like it before, she could actually feel waves of heat come down on top of her from that flaming crater in the being pauldrons.

His armour looked like he had been bound into his armour, chains of an unknown black metal wrapped his gauntlets and pauldrons to his arms and shoulders, while others bound his leather robes or any other metal to his body, making look like a prisoner in his own armour. She wondered what he was, she had never seen let alone heard of a creature that matches this one's description in her life, she thought about asking what he was, but wondered if he would take offense to it. She had no idea what he was or what his name was, name? Did he have a name? Of course he had a name; if he could speak then he would at least call himself something, should she ask? He hadn't spoken to her, maybe he didn't want to talk. Maybe she should just ask him, he wouldn't be upset if she just asked a question, would he? Oh this was so hard, why was it so hard for her to work up the nerve? He saved her, he would throw that away just because she asked him for his name.

"Um, excuse me" she said timidly, the large being looked down at her, she wanted to jump back in fright at the fact that his gaze seemed to be intimidating beyond all measure, she worked up all the nerve she had and asked him "Do you have a name?"

He looked down at her for a moment, he was silent and did not answer her question immediately, and when he turned away from her she was mentally scolding herself for doing that, she must have insulted him in some way. She felt kind of bad for doing that she had been saved and now she was insulting him, how could she be so thick, she should have kept her mouth shut and if he spoke she could then speak, but no she had to be the one who ruined the comfortable silence with an awkward one.

"Mairne" Brethilwen looked up at him, not fully understanding what he had just said, she murmured a quiet 'What?' before he replied again "My name is Mairne, High Shaman of the Bloodhoof Tauren"

She gazed up at him, High Shaman? Was that some sort of sorcerer rank or title that was bestowed on their magical users, and the part about the Bloodhoof Tauren caught her attention, was that some sort of group. No, it was likely the Bloodhoof referred to some form of clan or tribe that he belong to and the Tauren was his race, even though he was an intimidating sight she felt almost giddy about asking him more questions. Forgotten about her previous thoughts about having insulted or offended him she pressed, she sometime would over think things and usually blames herself or others when something went wrong, it was one of her little habits she had when she was much younger, and old habits are sometimes hard to kick.

"Can I asked, what is a Shaman?"

"A Shaman is a spiritual leader of a clan or tribe, we guide our people through times of struggle and turmoil, but our main duty is our ability to see and speak with the spirits" he replied

"Spirits? You can see Spirits?" she asked, shocked that someone, anyone, could speak with the spirits of the dead, that was something she had never heard of before.

"Yes, although we can speak with the spirits of our ancestors, it is the elemental spirits that we commune with; it is from them we can borrow their power as well as other abilities." She walked with him gaping with an open maw at what he had just said, he can speak with the dead as well as elemental creatures, that was hard to believe, how could someone speak to them, let alone be given power by them.

"So is that what happened back at the orc camp, you created a fire and engulfed them?" Brethilwen asked meekly, Mairne chuckled lightly at her question.

"No, a Shaman cannot control the elements fully, he can manipulate it on a small scale but to do what I required, I needed to ask for aid from an fire elemental spirit" he replied with a smile, which was hard for Brethilwen to discern, he looked down to see a slightly confused look on her face and he decided to elaborate. "When a Shaman wishes to use an element, he must first ask for permission to do so, he cannot simply take hold of the element and use it; he must respect the spirits and ask for their aid rather than demand it. The traditions of the Shaman tell us that if we take too much and offer to little in return we will displease the element and they will no longer come to our aid, that is why it is important that when one speaks with a spirit that they speak with respect, not just with their voice, but in their heart."

Brethilwen took in this information, she thought about what he had just told her with a lot of effort, it was something she had never heard of before, and she was likely the only person in Middle Earth who had likely knew about this. He said that he actually calls upon the assistance of elemental spirits, although she had no idea that such things exist, why would he lie about it, he certainly showed that he could control fire and lightning. If he was any type of sorcerer he would simply say that he was able to bend the element to his will and then manipulate it to his liking, but he didn't, he said that the elements came to his aid, he was saying that he borrows their power and only receives it because he respects them and they respect him enough for him to be allow to use it.

The only thing she knew that was close to a spirit was a Maiar, the original spirits that helped the Valar into creating the world, to say that he was able to speak with them and they would give him power was something she found hard to believe. The Maiar were very powerful, for Mairne to have their power at his disposal would make him almost as powerful as an Istari, if not more so, that kind of power would make him one of the strongest sorcerers in the world.

"So that's what you did back there, while the orcs where attacking, you were speaking with a spirit and it came to your aid?" she asked, sounding excited at the prospect.

"Yes, although this spirit is a little more closer to the mortal plain than it is to the elemental one" Mairne replied with a smirk, he was a little amused at the confused face she gave him, he knew that she didn't know much on the subject of elementals and would likely not know what he was talking about. After all only a few people actually knew he had a fire elemental hiding in his pauldrons, the Fire Baroness Ignia, a very feisty fire elemental that he had befriended many decades ago and has been by his side ever since. He had to admit though she was a childish creature, always acting more like a teenage woman rather than a very powerful and noble fire elemental, she was a different breed when it came to the standard of an angry and all-consuming nature of all fire elementals.

For the next few minutes Brethilwen asked him questions on his people and Shamanism, he answered her to the best of his abilities, even though he knew she was a smart woman, she wouldn't be able to fully understand all that he says. He wonder what type of world he had landed on, he could not hear the spirits in this land, though he had not meditated since his arrival, he should still be able to sense something, anything that is an eternal being. But alas he could feel nothing, there was no elemental spirits here or ancestral spirits of the dead, which was strange, there should be at least an elemental hub somewhere around the land, even nature spirits would be present in such a fertile land, yet he could feel none. Maybe there was something happening here that drove them off, he would have to meditate on this, and maybe talk with Ingia if she could feel anything that might be the cause of this absence of spiritual beings in the area.

Soon enough he could hear people off in the distance, he could see a white bridge through the small space between the trees, he narrowed his aged eyes to peer through the dim woodland area, soon enough he saw a small town. He turned to Brethilwen who was about ready to rush off and into the village, but Mairne stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, she looked up at the Shaman and he said to her before she could ask.

"Before we enter, I need your help…"

* * *

**Lin Giliath**

Medlichen along with his fellow warriors helped to traumatised elves and humans as they entered the camp, they had arrived a few minutes ago, and all of them were the people that had gone missing nearly a week ago in an orc raid. They disappeared along with nearly seven others who had been travelling across Kingfell towards this settlement, they were coming here to find some peace away from the rampaging trolls and orcs in the countryside, but when they went missing it was with a heavy heart that they were unable to send help to search for them. He had heard of what orcs do to their prisoners, it is not pleasant, but when he saw them arrive he was shocked that they had managed to escape, he had called for healers as well as more men just in case they were followed.

He looked down at the assembled people, all were huddled together eating the food they were given and downing their water just as hastily, five elves and two humans, that was all that was left of the fourteen that had been captured. He could see the pain and fear in their eyes as clear as the sun on a warm summer's day; they had been through much, too much, he looked at each and every one of them, but there was only one person he recognised, Gandelin, although he did not see her friend. His heart sank as he slowly approached the petrified young elf, he could see she was still scared, most prisoners who had been freed sometimes believe their mind is playing tricks on them, especially when one's life hand in the balance, and also when it involves if you escape or not.

"Gandelin, it's me, Medlichen, your safe now" he said slowly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, she flinched away from his touch and whimpered slightly. He could see the tears in her eyes building, she had just been brought out of a hell she couldn't endure, and he didn't know if she was fearful of this situation not being real or relief that she was finally safe.

"How did you escape?" Medlichen heard one of the warriors ask.

"We didn't really, we were set free…" started the human woman, she seemed the most composed of them all, but she was still just as scared as the rest of them, even being in familiar surroundings did little to help people who have suffered trauma such as confinement and imminent death.

"The Orcs set you free?" slightly exclaimed another soldier, his voice disbelieving at the prospect, but she shook her head at his assumptions. "Then who did?"

Suddenly Gandelin rose to her feet, her face no longer scrunched into a ball of grief and pain, her face betraying no emotion except mild surprise, she stepped around Medlichen while keeping her gaze focused on the forest ahead of her. Everyone kept their gaze on the woman as she slowly approached the tree line, her eyes fixed on something hidden under the shadows of the woodlands canopies, to them they saw nothing, but then through the shadows they saw a large dark figure slowly approach.

The dark figure continued to grow in size and its frame began to take shape, it was huge that was the first thing they saw, they then see the odd shape of its body, it definitely wasn't human or elf, could it be a troll, Medlichen thought. Slowly it emerges from the shadows and they are shown the true form of the shadow, an eight and a half foot tall bull-man beast, covered in reddish brown robes and armour that was chained over his form, his wide shoulders supporting large metal pauldrons that burnt from within with unnatural flame. To all who looked upon him they were utterly shocked, both in awe and fear of the monster that stood before them, they had never seen something so strange or large in their entire life and right now it was standing only a few feet away from Gandelin.

"Gandelin, get away from it!" shouted Menlichen as he drew his sword, along with all of his warriors, they rushed over to the front of the traumatised group preventing it from getting to them. But his words went on deaf ears, Gandelin simply looked up at the monster in front of her, her face undiscernible to him as he was half inclined to rushed over and try and drag her away from the creature.

Gandelin looked up at the large creature before her, he was one of the most incredible creatures she had ever laid her eyes on, he was huge in both height and build, and she would think him some sort of short troll with a lot of hair and a very pronounced nose. But she knew better than that, a troll had no conscience or intelligence other than to fight and kill, this being in front of her saved her life and protected her from further harm, as well as all the others. She looked up into its deep blue eyes, he did the same and looked down at the small elf, for a moment they maintained eye contact, until he moved to the side, revealing the person who had been hidden from view the entire time.

"Gandelin" Brethilwen breathed, her worry lifted immediately that her friend was safe; she stepped forward and as she did Gandelin shot forward and hugged her beloved friend with all her strength. So happy to her friend safe that she could no longer hold back her tears, she wept openly and loudly on Brethilwen shoulder, no longer caring about the Shaman or the shocked elves behind her. Mairne watched the scene calmly, taking note of the girls protruding ears, so they are elves then, he thought, he wondered what type of settlement this Lin Giliath would be, he had expected a small sanctuary with a few homes and buildings, but not some small camp of elves.

Slowly the warriors advanced on Mairne their weapon drawn and ready to put to use, Mairne regarded them with narrowed eyes, he may be a patient and wide man, but there was a reason that few dared to anger him, as a shaman he would bring down a terrible wrath upon them all. He clenched his fist getting ready to fight off these short eared elves if he had to, he may not like their first meeting being a hostile one but he had little choice if he wanted to defend himself, he saw eight of them in total, lightly armed in his opinion but a dagger in the hands of a skilled warrior can slay a Kodo with ease. But as they drew close they were stopped by a concerned shout.

"Stop!" cried Brethilwen, still in the grasp of Gandelin, she slowly removed herself and moved herself between the two parties, facing the elven warriors. "He means no harm; he only wishes to know where he is"

"Out of the way, we can't let that think anywhere near this refuge" retorted Medlichen, Mairne's eyes narrowed at elves use of words, but kept his temper in check as they were unknowing of his race or standing.

"No, wait, please, he saved me" she shouted, as the men made another move on the Shaman, they stopped momentarily but remained ready to strike. "He saved all of us."

"What do you mean?"

"He came to the orc camp, killed all the orcs and set us free" stated Brethilwen; the men shared several incredulous glances between one another.

"Why, why would this beast do that?" sneered Medlichen, complete disbelieving that the creature before him would have any form of morality.

"He is not a beast, and if you fight him you all will die, he may be kind and noble, but I tell you now: His mercy is not without limit" proclaimed Brethilwen, her voice barred a great foreboding that if they did do as she said they would meet a horrid fate. Each of them looked at the now tense creature before them, they could see the red gleam in his eyes, even though his eyes were blue they burnt as if a fire churned within his body, it unnerved many of them, some stepping back in fright. Medlichen was also not spared in the feeling they received when they looked upon the creature before them, he trusted Brethilwen, but what she said was simply too hard to believe, how could a creature like this possibly want to help them, before he could speak he was overshadowed by another voice.

"Medlichen, what is going on here?" came the cry of a very familiar voiced to all, each and every single elf turned their head towards the speaker, some in worry and others in relief of his presence. Gildor Inglorion strode forth across bridge and over to the large group of elves that sat near the small river and the warriors near the tree line, but he was taken aback slightly at the sight of an unknown creature standing before them. The young looking elf strode forward past the worrying people and the warriors up to the Shaman, he stood just at its chest, he looked up at the bull and kept his face plain, and he stared into the creature's eyes for a moment before asking.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice firm and gallant, usually from someone who had been brought up as a noble, Mairne examined his carefully, he definitely was a noble, with the way he walks and talks it was easy to see. He also knew that he was a warrior, easily known by the sword on his hip, but the confidence he had showed he was assured that his abilities would carry him through any fight, some would call that arrogant, but Mairne saw he was not a man to take lightly, he was definitely a great warrior.

"I have come to find my way home" stated Mairne, his voice robust and coarse, making a few flinch at his words, but Gildor did not bat an eye when he spoke by a few feet away from him. Just as Mairne thought, he was brave, he didn't fear Mairne at all, and he was simply gauging the Shaman to see if he was threat or not.

"And where would this home of yours be?"

"Azeroth" Mairne replied; his only response was a raised eyebrow from Gildor and murmuring from the other elves.

"I have never heard of such a land" stated Gildor

"Nor should you" replied Mainre

"I have lived through the centuries, and have come to know much of the known world, to say that there is something I don't know, I find highly doubtful" Gildor replied plainly.

"No one man can hold all the knowledge of the universe on his shoulders, for if he tried, then he would be burdened with knowledge he may wish he would have not known." replied the Shaman, his wisdom coming to light, surprising the few that heard it and earning himself nod of approval from Gildor.

"Follow me, we will discuss this somewhere more private" he said, gesturing for the Shaman to follow, as he moved alongside the elven noble there were cried of alarm and shock over what he had just done.

"Lord Inglorion, we cannot just allow this creature to walk within this sanctuary, he is dangerous" stated Midlichen, casting a glare at the shaman as he spoke. But a raised hand from Gildor stopped him before he could continue.

"You concerns are noted, but I am interested in who this being is, after all, there is more to this 'man' here than just a beast, you will leave him be" he reassured then, but his voice carried a sharp edge emphasising he wished for no argument.

The elves relented to their lord's command, but he did not wait for an acknowledgement from them before walking away, but that did not stop them from glaring daggers into the Shaman's back, they were prepared to sink their swords into it should he pose a threat to them, their lord's command or not.

* * *

Mairne arrived in a small underground Library of sorts a few minutes later, rows upon rows of ancient tones were neatly stacked on the sturdy wooden shelves, he walked through the large gap between the two sections of the library, his hooves clapping loudly on the stone floors below. Noise which attracted the attention of many different elves who were either studying through the tomes or where sorting them back into their shelves, most were shocked to see the unknown being before them some we so surprised they tried to hide behind the end of the books cases or under their tables. But Mairne paid them no heed; he wasn't here to cause any trouble he only wanted to know where he was and if these elves possessed the ability to either send him home or direct him to those who could. Soon enough they reached the end of the library and an old rectangular wooden table with four chairs on each side, Gildor took his seat at one end of the table, and motioned Mairne to do the same, but the Shaman shook his head.

The chairs were too small for him to sit on entirely and he didn't believe for one moment that the wooden chains would be able to support his immense weight, even without his armour he was a heavy creature, seeing the Shaman's un-answered point in the matter he continued on.

"So, who are you? And why are you here?" asked Gildor Inglorion, placing his arms on the table and entwining his fingers in front of his face, he gauged the creature in front of him to look for any deception.

"My name is Mairne Ragetotem, High Shaman of the Bloodhoof Tauren, and the reason as to my presence in this land, it is quite simple, I was brought here by forces beyond your imagining" Gildon watched him closely, keeping an eyes on his posture and eyes, he may not know what this creature was, but he could tell it had potential to cause serious harm.

"I see, where exactly do you originate from, I have never heard of Azeroth before, where is it exactly?"

"Do you have world atlas, which I may refer to?" asked the Shaman, Gildor nodded and called over one of the Library serfs, he approached slowly casting fearful eyes to the towering creature before him. Gildon whispered into his ear and he took off quickly about his task, a few minutes later he returned holding a large scroll, he approached the table, though a bit slower than his departure earlier, and placed the folded paper on the smooth mahogany and rolled it out.

On the map was revealed a large map large continent, at first he thought it to be some sort of super continents, but when that moment past he saw the difference easily, the continent was separated into two large oval like shaped continents that were connected by what appeared to be a frozen wasteland in the northern-most part of the continent. Their sizes and proportions very different, Middle Earth was much larger and had an anomalous oval shape, while its neighbouring continent, The Undying Lands, was smaller as a whole and had a much more narrower shape and resembled a thin oval, in conclusion he knew he was no longer on Azeroth.

"Do you see any similarities to you home as they are on the map?" asked Gildor, looking at the Shaman as he studied the map; he could see the gloom in his features when he looked at the map more closely. There had been something on it that took his attention, but he felt it wasn't about the location on the map, but the map in general was the source of his anxiety, something was not right about this, he had extensive knowledge of much of the world and he had never heard of or seen any creature the like of him before.

"Sadly no, but I had expected this, after all, where I come from I have travelled the entire world and never seen anything such as this before, now I am certain, this world is not my own" stated Mairne, he leaned heavily onto the mahogany table, its legs creaking as his immense weight pressing down onto it. That attack from the observer must have sent him through some sort of portal, it made sense, when he witnessed object being pulled into the black holes he did not see any remains or traces of debris from bodies or weapons, the likely conclusion was the spell would pull you into some sort of pocket dimension outside the physical world and trap you there. But when a large number of black holes merge the amount of energy must have create an unstable portal that threw him on this world, but the question is what world is this and is there any way he could return home.

"This world is not your own? What are you saying?" asked Gildor, ripped from his gauging manner to address the Shaman, he had expected some answer that may say he was from a small continent outside of Arda, but another world, could such a thing exist.

"The name of my world is called Azeroth, my homeland is called Mulgore, on the Continent Kalimdor" he stated, not looking at the elven noble, he then suddenly shot up and stared down at him with a piercing gaze "This is not good news, I may have survived the method that brought me here, but, I must return, there is a serious threat against my world and I will not sit idle while it still remains"

"Wait, even if what you say is true, and I am not inclined to agree with you based on your word, how do you intend for me to send you back, I have no knowledge of other worlds, much less travelling between them." replied Gildor, remaining seated but with the Tauren's sudden action he tensed slightly and readied himself in case he needed to fight.

"What of your world's magic wielders, surely you have those who can control the ebbs and flows of magic in this world, they could possibly create a portal or gateway to my world" asked Mairne, earning him a shocked look from the Elven Noble.

"How would you know that Magic is the key to sending you back to your world, what could you possibly know of it?" asked Gildor, disbelieving that this Shaman in front of him would know anything about the magical arts, then what happened in front of him shook him to the core. In a moment a sphere of flame was summoned from the Tauren's hand, he clenched at the flame with his gauntleted hand and did not showing any signs that he was uncomfortable with the close proximity to the fire.

"You may see me as some beast, but that is far from what I am" stated Mairne coldly, with a wave of his hand the flame disappeared, his gauntlet bore no evidence that it had been burnt or deformed by the fire that danced around it a moment ago.

"You are something else, you are not some wizard or sorcerer, you held that flame as if it was nothing, what are you?"

"I am a Shaman, an envoy between this mortal world and the spirit realm, from the spirits of the elements I draw my power and with their guidance I lead my people" stated Mairne, his voice proud, Gildor was more surprised now than he was before, he had called himself an envoy to the spirit world, that was something that only the Istari would be capable of, to speak with the Valar and their fellow Maiar. But this Shaman says he speaks to the elemental spirits, he had heard of these creatures before, beings of immense power and control over the very world itself, they were almost a myth to the rest of the world, but there were tales in the Forgotten Lands that they roamed the world freely.

"What proof do you have of this? You may hold a flame in your hand but don't think to trick me into believing that you can call upon spirits, and if you lie to me I will aid you no further." asked Gildor, though his tone was more in a demanding manner.

"Arrogant creature" a fiery female voice was heard, it shook Gildor to the bone, he could not see where she came from and did not recognise the voice of any elf in Lin Giliath, he looked over to the Shaman. He backed away when he saw the shoulder guards of the Tauren ablaze with red hot fire, quickly its burst forth from it like fire from a volcano, it twirled above them both for a moment, a sight that would be spectacularly beautiful if not so terrifying. Then the flames condensed into a single figure and descended towards him, he was awestruck by what was moving towards him, a living flame approached, it held the body of a lithe naked woman with smooth molten skin. Her long hair was a blaze of fire, the only thing solid on her were two strange rocks that were attacked with chains to her wrists, her false eyes were a single shade of golden amber and she had no mouth to speak of, yet her voice boomed and rumbled loader than thunder.

"Your Ignorance and vanity disgust me, you insult the Shaman in front of you, one of honour and nobility, for he appears as a 'beast' in your eyes, I will tolerate your presence no longer." her visage radiated such immense heat that Gildor was beginning to sweat heavily, which in turn evaporated from his brow just as it appeared, he also felt his lips and throat begin to dry. Slowly he moved away, he may be a fine swordsman and ranger, but against an elemental spirit what chance would he have, but as she prepared to grasp him with her flaming claw she was stopped.

"Ignia, that is quite alright." The Elemental and Elven Noble turned to the High Shaman, he was looking plainly at the fire elemental called Ignia, and she rounded on him in an instant.

"Why do you deny me this?" called the Elemental, her voice appearing displeased, the Shaman did not back down from her close proximity as he stared at her with a plain expression.

"We are guests here, and guests do not kill their hosts, am I correct Baroness?" he said, using her title, he only used such a thing to remind her of her higher position above other elementals, as a Baroness she was considered greater than most other flames spirits in all regards, that included their short fused personality. True a fire elemental would kill you as soon as they looked at you, but a Fire Baron are meant to be wise and strong, not angry and childish, her demeanour changed after he used her title, she seemed to relax and her flames began to decrease in intensity.

Soon all that remained was the flaming visage of a woman with waist length fiery hair, with small trails of fire running up her legs and arms, she lowered her head for a moment as considering his words and looked at him a few moments later.

"Yes, I am above those lesser elemental's, I am no mindless blaze, I am a Baroness" she proclaimed, she let out a small breath of sparks and ash before continuing "Sometimes I feel as if you are the one who is guiding me"

"We have been friends for many seasons Ignia" he said resting a gauntleted hand on her infernal shoulder, which lightly smouldered as it touched her golden red skin, Gildor watched their exchange with shock.

Not only had he been confronted by an elemental creature but he saw one, who seemed to have a deep respect for the Shaman, as he had for her, slowly her form began to turn into a swirl of flames, then they flowed back within the pauldrons from once they came. The room was eerily quiet; those that had witnessed it had either hidden for their lives or had fled, standing at the end of the library were the Shaman and Gildor Inglorion, both had contrasting expressions, Mairne was composed and plain, while Gildor was apprehensive and alarmed. He had just come face to face with an elemental being that had every intention of killing him, only to be saved by the man he had suspected and treated with disrespect, the same actions that nearly were the cause of his demise.

"My apologies, Ignia can be temperamental at times, after all she is a fire elemental" said Mairne in a sincere tone, still shocked to his very core Gildor only half heard his apology, one part of his mind was still racing at the thought of this Tauren having control over an being as powerful as a Balrog. Shaking his head he pushed away those thoughts and focused back onto the Shaman, he had disrespected him at every turn and for that he nearly paid the price, he looked at him and while still trying to calm his nerves he replied.

"It is alright, my actions and disrespect were unfounded, I should have greeted you with more respect for someone of you station." His tone stammering a little as he began, he bowed towards the Shaman as he apologised, when he returned to his full height he looked back and continued. "I cannot help you return to your world, but there may be other who can help you."

"And who would these individuals be?" queried Mairne

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell is the leader of the elves in Eregion, he can help you, and if he can't he can take you to someone who can." replied Gildor.

"This Lord Elrond, where is it I can find him?"

"Rivendell is his home and city, it is two weeks journey from here, and I would take you myself but with things as they are here…" he started before Mairne interrupted him.

"I understand, these orcs have been rampaging the countryside, Gatson's Farm isn't the only one to have been attacked, I have come across many other abandoned homes and farms" replied Mairne sombrely.

"You know of him?"

"I protected his farm on my arrival here; he is the one who told me of Lin Giliath"

"I see; Gatson as you may know decided to remain behind, we can't keep him safe, much like everything else in the North Downs."

"I would not worry about Gatson for the moment, I left him some adequate protection, but these orcs, where is it that they originated from?"

"The come from Angmar in the north, there are hundreds of orcs there, always raiding villages and sacking homes, it's a wonder why so many still live here"

"Can you not call for aid, reinforcements from Rivendell?"

"Sadly no, there are event taking place that have diverted their attention away from the west, and more to the east"

"What could be so important that an invasion of an orc horde would not take precedence?"

"The return of an evil far worse than orcs, an evil that plans to plunge the world in darkness" replied Gildor grimly "I am the only person who is able to help these people, aside from the rangers of the north, but sadly they are usually scattered across Erigion and its neighbouring territories for them to be of any help."

Before they could continue a single ranger barged into the Library rushing over to Gildor, he stopped at the steps and kneeled down to his lord; Gildor rose from his chair and approached the ranger.

"Ranger what is the meaning of this intrusion?" he asked, though it wasn't angry or irritated, but a firm question as to why he was here.

"My apologies my lord, but we have received word from the nearby village on the other side of the mountains, an orc force is marching towards it, they plan on attacking the town and going straight to the Shire" Gildor didn't wait for the ranger to finished before he moved to the exit, behind him the ranger followed, leaving Mairne to think about his current situation.

He was trapped here for the time being, he had no allies or way to return home, he was in unfamiliar territory and had little chance of surviving in this place without help, and he slowly walked to the exit following the elf noble. He had no help here, his connection to the elements of this land was not possible, whatever had come here had driven them away, and now the mortals were going to pay the price as the orcs descended upon them. He closed his eyes as he remembered the village he came from, the centaur attacks and how the few warriors that were there could do nothing but try and save as many as they could, he was only a calf back then, no more than ten years of age. He witnessed his village burn and turn to ash, his family killed and being imprisoned in a centaur camp, he knew the pain of being under the heels of heartless monsters and would not condone it onto anyone, even his enemies.

With a new resolve he strode forward, Elrond could wait, he had to get to this village and stop the orcs before they destroy it, lives were depending on them, he would not fail so long as his honour was intact and so was his word. He leapt up the steps three at a time, chasing after Gildor.

* * *

"Get the men together, we are departing immediately" said Gildor, Medlichen was beside him along with the ranger who had brought the message of the advancing orc army.

"My lord, we only have fifteen men, we can't hope to halt a force of two hundred, and we need more men" tried Medlichen, though he was a noble warrior he knew that the battle ahead of them was one that couldn't be won.

"That is true, but at least we can slow them." stated Gildor, looking at Medlichen from the corner of his eye, before turning back to the ranger "Get to Evendium, speak with the Rangers there, and tell them what is happening here."

The ranger nodded before he took off, rushing over to the stables and getting his horse, mounting the horse quickly, he galloped over the bridge and disappeared into the forest, intent on delivering his message post-haste.

"My lord, it will take up days to reach the orcs, we have to travel along the river before we reach them, but by then they will already be in Evendium and on their way to the Shire or the Breelands."

"We aren't going along the river" stated Gildor, for a moment Medlichen was confused as to what his lord was planning, and then he remembered the secret path through the mountains.

"My Lord we cannot! That route is too dangerous for us to take, we have not enough men and it is inhabited with orcs and goblins along with other despicable creatures."

"We have little choice, if we don't go through the pass we won't be able to arrive before the orcs, and then we have truly lost." He stated grimly, looking towards the assembled soldiers before him, fifteen in total stood in front of him, each with a bow and a set of swords, he could not fully hide his grim demeanour from them as he spoke.

"Men, we leave soon, but before we do I must let you know, this battle will not be like any other you have been in before, and this will not end well for any of us. We are fighting an army of orcs, it is all but certain we will not survive, though I cannot speak for all of you, I for one will march into battle without hesitation."

"But my lord, how can we hope to save them, we are too few, our actions will mean nothing" called one his soldiers, Gildor looked at his for a moment and considered his answer, as he was about to rebuke the young ranger another did it for him.

"What is it that you fear elf?" they turned to see the massive figure of Mairne approaching, his size casting an intimidating shadow over all "Do you fear dying? Do you fear there is no afterlife? Do you fear for your soul?"

The soldier opened his mouth a great many times but no sound came from it, he was scarred, both of the upcoming battle and the Shaman in front of him.

"You should feel fear, to ask such a question, for what one does in his life weighs on what he shall receive in his future or in the next world" the soldiers were oddly silent, all staring wide eyed at the being in front of them "Remember, one man's sin does not rest solely in the wrong he commits, but also the good that he does not do." His words firm and wise as he spoke, even though he was an imposing figure the warriors were hanging off his every word. Even Gildor was taken aback by the words of wisdom he was hearing from him, a spiritual leader indeed, he thought.

"Will you cower in the face of this enemy, who go to spill the blood of the innocent? Are you going to stand back and live your lives with a heavy heart knowing you did nothing to stop them? Or will you stand tall? And Fight" he cried out to the warriors, who stared him down with a new determination that was not there before.

"Will you meet the enemy on the battlefield?" he cried, people began to come and observe the scene before them, and the warriors yelled their reply 'Yes'.

"Will you defend the innocent from the approaching horde?" they cheered, 'Yes!' they cried aloud.

"Will you fight to your last breath until they are safe!" a resounding cheer erupted from the warriors, their vigour high and their blood pumping they were ready for battle. Taking the lead Gildor directed him men towards the hidden pass, with a salute and 'yes, sir' they eagerly marched away, before he turned to the Shaman who stood there watching the soldiers move off towards the battle that would likely be their last.

"I thank you for those words, at first I was planning on scolding them, they are soldiers after all, but the way the roused their spirits was something" said Gildor, gaining the Shaman's attention, who looked down at the elven noble with a plain look before turning back to the soldiers.

"I have always been so, a spiritual leader must know how to inspire those around him, or otherwise I am nothing more than an old bull who can throw around a lot of fire" he said lightly, with a faint smirk on his face, to which Gildor laughed lightly.

"I will have Medlichen here take you to Rivendell, you can reach it in a fort night by foot, I would offer a horse, but I don't have one to accommodate you" said Gildor, his tone was light but it became slightly cheeky as he reached the end, Mairne chuckled at the elves humour.

"My thanks, but I must refuse your offer for the time being" replied Mairne, earning him two confused looks "I will be going with you"

* * *

**Authors Notes: Hey everyone, sorry for the slight delay my internet was down and I wasn't able to post this up, but now that it is ready for you to read, it's all good. Also the Next Chapter will be up soon to make up for the delays between the two latest chapters. Read and Review please, Thanks.**

**Regards, Jimmyjamster**


	10. Chapter 08: Hunted

**Hello everyone, sorry for the long delay, had a lot of stuff on my plate at the moment, but its all good now and I hope to get you the next chapter up very soon, I'm looking forward to getting it up as well as another story of mine which I will try to post alongside my next chapter.**

**Now for the reviews**

**Terzha: Spice? You want spice… okay I'll se what I can do. (Oh btw do you like awkward moments and sexual tension.)**

**Fallen Maiar: I would never leave you all hanging like that, I'm sorry I didn't update earlier, as I said had thing to do, but now I'm back and hopefully on a regular basis. Glad you like it, bet your gonna love the next two chapters though, they focus on the massive hammer wielding machine of death that is Mairne Ragetotem. (and maybe a little girl and a crazy yet hot enforcer of justice.)**

**Kiue Jin: I can understand where you coming from, when I first had this in my head I was thinking on how I was going to do it and what characters to put into it. I did have the idea of an female orc shaman, and possibly an undead, but after a bit of working through it this is what I came up and finalized on, I would have loved to add more but sometimes you cant just add all the player onto the field. **

**As for my plea for help, you will want to keep a look out on him personnel page, as I will be adding a new story to it soon and when I do I will be giving you a big description of the project as well as what I intend to do. So keep an eyes out. Okay.**

**ultima-owner: Yes. Yes he is.**

* * *

**Chapter: 08 – Hunted**

**Mirkwood**

It was early morning when the riders final reached their destination, they had travelled through the night to their hidden camp in southern Mirkwood, once known as Lasgalen or the Greenwood, but with taint of the Dark Lord corrupting the forest it is but a shadow of its former greatness. Thirty rangers rode into the small camp hidden within the ruins of a dilapidated castle; all that remained were few blacked stoned walls and towers which seemed to blend in the unnatural gloom that was Mirkwood. Fifteen horses came to a halt in a small courtyard and dismounted without concern, all save one which carried a second passenger on the leading horse, a woman in green and gold flowing robes and carried an ornate staff, she slowly dismounted after the first all the while clutching the her side.

"Are you alright?" asked the rider, his name Lomdognir, he introduced himself on their journey towards this place, he said he was the Commander of the Malladhrim, an order of elven rangers created to stop the spread of evil from Mirkwood. He had long golden-blond hair that passed his shoulders and had a youthful appearance, one would think him no older than twenty, but when dealing with elves they are not as all they would seem.

"Yes, my side just hurts, I only need to rest" hissed the gold and green clad woman in pain as she dismounted the horse, grasping her side lightly as the pain shot from her waist and into every other part of her form.

"Allow me to take you to our healers, they may be of some aid" Lomdognir asked, his voice laced with some concern, but she had already started walking away, using her staff as a walking stick before she replied.

"It is not required, the wound is no longer life threatening, all I need to do is rest and let it heal" she stifled a groan of pain, twice, as she replied, true her wound was no longer a risk to her life but the wound was still opened and an ugly sight. Her hand was covered in both dry and fresh blood, which was hard to see with the soft green glow that enveloped it; she had been trying to heal her wound for the last few hours and was having some difficulty. Likely from the method of attack that was beset upon her, cuts and bruises were easier to heal that burns and magically inflicted attacks, the reason being that flames usually cauterised the wound making it hard for the cells to reform naturally, and magic usually interfered with whatever remedy you are trying to use to heal yourself. And since it was a magical flame it was much more difficult, she was on the verge of losing consciousness many a time while on her way here, if not for the occasional bump from the horse she would have likely fallen unconsciousness and likely bled out before she awoke.

She found a small bench near the wall and took a seat, grimacing slightly and holding back another whimper as she did, leaning her staff against the wall she too leaned back and slowly closed her eyes, taking a moments respite before continuing her treatment. She took in a deep breath before opening her eyes, when she did she couldn't help but groan in exasperation, in front of her was Lomdognir along with four others, all with their hands on the hilts of their swords and looking at her expectantly. She looked right into the Malladhrin Commander's eyes for a few moments, she was gauging him to see if he was trying to intimidate her or was prepared to attack if he needed to, she could see his eyes were almost doing the same to her and though she was willing to fight she knew she wouldn't survive against such a highly train soldiers as close as he was.

She let out another exasperated sign before looking back up at the commander and asking him. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Who are you and why were you Dol Guldur?" asked Lomdognir, his gaze just as hard as his tone, Rosaria looked thoughtful for a moment, not to sure what to tell him. She couldn't exactly trust these people, true they saved her, but one can never be too wary of strangers in a foreign land, especially when they are ones who seem to be either a mercenary band or bandits. But she had little choice in the long run, even if she did answer the questions and in the end they attacked she would still likely be killed, so she might as well play along for now and hope an opening appears so that she could either annihilate them or escape.

"My name is Rosaria Wildmane, Arch Druid of the Cenarion Circle and as for why I was in that dismal fortress; I was looking for the source of corruption to this forest." She replied matter-of-factly towards the Captain, appearing uncaring and bored, she couldn't allow him to appear to have the power in this conversation; her pride and life would be at risk if she appeared meek or submissive in any way.

"Arch Druid?" pondered Lomdognir, not to sure what the term meant, casting the title aside he pressed further "How did you enter the fortress, we did not see any sizable force assault its walls."

"I was the only person to enter the city" she replied plainly, she would have smirked at the look on their faces but bit it back, before continuing "As for how I got in, they opened the gate for me."

This caused the men to lose their surprised look for one of suspicion; she could understand it in a sense, if she was told that a single person entered a fortress through the front door without so much as batting an eye with the occupants that would set alarm bells off.

"Calm down, they let me in so they could try and kill me" she said offhandedly, before she looked Lomdognir right in the eye, her light blue glowing orbs piercing into his dim green, before finishing with a serious and heated tone. "And they paid for their arrogance with their lives."

Some of them took a step back from the tone she used; some even started sliding their sword out of their sheaths, even though they outnumbered her and were at an advantage they could feel that she wasn't just some random woman who was lucky enough to get in and out of Dol Guldur alive. The only one who seemed to not be taken back was the commander; he held his ground but did tighten his grip on the hilt of his sword, Rosaria noticed this but paid no heed to it, even if he did attack she was certain she could be able to dodge it and then fire off a quick star bolt before moving onto the others. But the fact she was in unfamiliar territory and surrounded by what was likely thirty or more highly trained trackers and hunter, that did not bode well with her, she was effectively a prisoner, and if she even tried to escape she was doubtful she would make it out the gate and even if she did whatever sentries they had would make sure she get much further than that.

"As long as you don't do the same, you have nothing to fear from me elf" she stated, much more calmer that her previous statement, they were relieved but did not visibly show it, she regarded the commander once again, who was boring his emerald eyes into her own as if looked for any deception. Even if he could see her pupils behind the glowing light that enveloped the orbs he would see she was speaking truthfully, but as he could not he had no choice but to remain on guard and suspicious, sighing again she leaned back against the wall and waited for whatever was next to come.

"Remove your hood and mask" ordered Lomdognir, she jerked her head upwards to look at the man, 'why' she thought, and she voiced that though and his reply was just as simple "Because I said so"

Scowling at the irritating elf she complied, first removing her hood from her head to reveal her snow-white hair which stretched down past her shoulders and down to her lower back, also were her long elongated ears which were concealed under the hood. This caught them off guard; they had never seen anything like it before, true they had elongated ears, but not to that length, they now were able to take in her almost pristine light purple skin that glowed in the dim light of the coming dawn, and her darker purple lips. She let the hood fall behind her and then moved to her half-mask, which covered her face from her hairline to the tip of her nose, with two small temples that ran alongside her face and coiled over her ears, she placed her hand on the mask and removed it. She revealed her appearance to the five rangers in front of her and all of them could only gasp at what they saw, they were gaping at her in complete shock, Rosaria had no idea why they were so surprised by her appearance, were these people so sequestered that they had never seen a different race before.

She narrowed her eyes at one of the warriors who seemed to not be staring at her face, his gaze was cast slightly lower, then she realised what took them by surprise, she sighed in annoyance once more, they were men, they think with only thing when it came to woman. She knew she was attractive but she didn't flaunt it like some harlot or blood elf, she was to prideful and respectable to do something such as that, she was a night elf and they were a proud and respected people.

"If you don't mind, I would very much appreciate, if you didn't stare at me, particularly at my chest" she stated firmly, but growled at the one elf who was staring at her assets and a moment later he adverted his eyes with a guilty look on his face, she groan in irritation before murmuring a quiet 'men'.

"My apologies, we did not mean to look so intently, we just have never seen someone so... extraordinary" replied Lomdognir, trying his best not to try and insult the woman further, hoping he didn't as Rosaria's face remain completely neutral. "Speaking of your appearance, what are you exactly; I have never seen a race such as yours before."

"My people call ourselves the Kaldorei, it means children of the stars, and we are also known by a simpler term: Night Elves." She stated, watching as their faces contort in a mixture of scepticism and surprise, they could not deny she was a tantalizing creature, but to say she was an elf was something they were having a little difficulty to believe.

"You're an elf?" stated Lomdognir, shock clearly written across his face, a stiff nod was his response "I'm sorry, I don't mean any offence it's just, to say you're an elf, that would mean you and I are of the same race, yet I have never come across your kind before, let alone heard of your people."

"I do not expect you or any other of your kind to know of me or my people." She stated; then remained silent for a moment, deep in thought with herself trying to think of a way to discover where she was.

She could ask these people where she is but the ludicrousness of her origins would likely be met with negatively, no she would keep herself quiet for now, until she could find someone who was a little more open minded and maybe if she was lucky, intelligent. She looked up at the elf once more, his eyes still gazing blankly at her, she ignored the irritating stare he was giving her and shook him out of his trance.

"Tell me, where is it that you originate from?" she asked, he was snapped back into reality by her question and with a few moments to compose himself after being likely caught staring at her he replied.

"I- We come from a place known as Caras Galadhon, in the forests of Lothlórien, why do you ask?"

"I wish to go there; I would request sanctuary from your leaders" she said, 'then find out where I am', she thought, 'and then see if the others are here' "Then I will tell you all you need to know of me and my people, is that acceptable?"

For a moment he stood there slightly taken aback, she had just asked for asylum, after what looked like she was going to attack them and then try and escape a few minutes ago, and now she was asking for help, he was slightly suspicious.

"Why should I trust you?" he said, all the while keeping a firm grip on the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it and drive it through her heart should she try anything. A moment later she lifted herself to her feet, her staff clenched tightly in her hands, she took a step forward and stood face to face with the Malladhrin commander, she looked into his eyes and saw his willingness to fight and kill if needed. She couldn't help but feel like a fool for what she was planning, but she had passed that point now and she had no choice but to wing it and hope for the best, as Tyresa use to put it, she slowly extended her hand with her staff tightly clenched between its fingers.

In an instant their swords were drawn and they assumed a fighting stance, their leader unsheathed his sword and had it at her throat, but by the time he did she had already completed the gesture, she held out her staff, ready to… relinquish it to him. For a moment there was nothing but hostility in the air, Rosaria kept her face stoic as ever but in truth her heart was beating hard in her chest, then Lomdognir glanced at her staff and saw it was outstretched toward him; he looked back at Rosaria incredulously. She stood their her face completely emotionless, even though she was fighting to keep her calm on the inside, Lomdognir turned slightly to the two rangers on his left and motioned them forward, each took a position on either side of Rosaria.

Lomdognir, keeping his sword close to the night elves neck, moved his free hand towards the woman's staff, who of course did not show any signs of agitation of concern, when he wrapped his hands around it there was a brief moment of hesitation in Rosaria. The thought of surrendering her weapon to him was highly undesirable, her weapon was a part of her and to relinquish it was something she found near impossible to do, but with a dissatisfied groan she let it slide from her grasp and into the hands of another. She closed her eyes and thought about the shame she had just cast upon herself, as a warrior and druid to surrender her weapon and herself over as a willing prisoner was highly dishonourable, she took one large calming breath, ignoring the cold steel at her throat, more concerned with the indignity of losing her weapon that losing her life at the moment.

She looked up to see the Malladhrin commander looking at her apprehensively, whether deciding to either let her live or kill her, after a moment he retracted his sword from her throat and the rest followed suit after a wave of his now free hand.

"I will take you to Lothlórien, from there we will decide your fate" he turned to leave, his men following him close behind, Rosaria sank back into her seat, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to calm her frantically beating heart. She had to get a hold of herself, she had to remain calm and keep whatever pride and dignity she had left in this blight infested hellhole, she was doing this not for herself, she knew that if she had survived whatever brought her here maybe everyone else did. She may not know where she was or if they were alive, but she made a single promise to her companion Tyresa, protect Joana, those words rang through her head like a church bell on an early Sunday morn, and she would make sure that vow was carried out no matter what, even if it was her honour. She leaned back against the black stone wall watching as the world began to brighten as the sun began to rise, even though the new dawn had arrived she couldn't help but be taken in by the blackness that was unconsciousness, she couldn't help it anymore, slowly her eyes blinked themselves closed and her breathing became shallow and quiet, and in that moment she was asleep.

* * *

**Trollshaws **

Zul'kal rushed through the thick underbrush, breaking branches and sending leaves through the air at his speed, jumping over roots and weaving his way through the trees, he was running for dear life. Behind him he could hear the sound of his pursuers close on his tail, their light footsteps making it difficult for the troll to hear as his heart thumbed heavily in his chest, he looked to his left and saw a shadow pass through the trees not only twenty feet away from his. He grimaced; he was in a difficult position, they were surrounding him and no matter how far or fast he went they would always catch up to him a minute or two later, his head snapped to the right as he heard a whistling sound pierced the air.

* * *

_One hour ago_

* * *

_Zul'kal sat in a large branch just above the ground and was resting peacefully, by his side was his trusted bow and his quiver, he lay along the lengths of the thick branch and slept, he had been through a lot recently. For the last few days, he had assisted in the assault on an ancient titan city, fought against indescribable creatures, and now was trapped in an unknown land with little to no idea where he was in relation to anything. He sighed in his sleep; he would worry about it later, for now he would keep dreaming about that very fine female bartender from the Sunreaver Sanctuary in Dalaran, The Filthy Animal, Mimbihi was her name, ah, he loved her short red hair and equally fiery eyes._

_He hadn't seen her in a long while, a few months now, oh how he missed her smile, she was really something, he thought, he dreamt about her for a while, he enjoyed those dreams, maybe even more than those lecherous ones he had on occasion. Remembering the talks they had when he was in Dalaran, they conversed about their younger days before they were brought into the horde, their favorite food and drink as well as some fun times they had in their own adventures. Zul'kal may be a perverted bastard, hell; most of his dreams emphasized that, usually with very lewd encounters between himself and many different females, from elves, orcs, trolls, humans and on one occasion a goblin._

_He smirked inwardly on that, but when he thought about her he didn't feel that, he saw her as more of a close friend rather than some fantasy he could use to keep his mind busy when he was doing something boring. Maybe when he got back home he would take a week or so off and see her, it would be better than just taking up another scouting or assassination mission for Mairne or the Warsong Offensive, but before he could plan out his vacation he heard something off in the distance. Opening his eyes he listened intently to the sound of nature, searching for any sounds that did not belong, he did not have to wait long, he heard horses neighing far off in the distance, maybe two hundred meters to the south-east, but from what he could hear they weren't moving, wild nags maybe, he though. He was inclined to take that thought and pass it off as nothing, he was tired and he didn't want to deal with anything for the moment, he slowly relaxed and leaned back against the tree and rested his head on the soft bark._

_But he was drawn out of his respite when something caught his attention, he heard something close by, just behind the tree line, he turned to the source and as he did he heard the sound of something along the lines as a light whine. He sat up quickly and turned to his left, but was forced to lean back again as an arrow veered towards his head, with a hard thud it embedded itself into the branch of the adjacent tree, and he turned away from the arrow just as he heard another similar whine coming from his front. Sensing the danger he rolled over the branch and fell to the ground, just as he fell from the perch the tree which he once rested against was struck with three arrows, landing on his feet he turned once more to the left to hear another arrow veering towards him, quickly ducking he narrowly dodged an arrow intent on piercing his neck. He stumbled as he dodged the attack, not fully prepared for it, this cost him as he had no time to dodge the next arrow that lodged itself deep into his right shoulder, and a brief cry of agony could be heard from the troll as the arrow pierced his flesh._

_He looked at the offending object with disdain before having to roll out of the way as more arrows were launched towards him, seeing no other choice, he turned to his bow and quiver and rushed for it, all the while breaking the shaft of the arrow and pulling it free from his shoulder. He groaned is pain as both the arrow and a splatter of blood flew from his shoulder, casting aside the bloody arrow he turned to the side to hear another whine pass through the air, grimacing slightly he ducked low, escaping with only a small cut along the back of his chest guard. He had enough of this; closing his eyes for a moment he focused on summoning one of his aspects to help him, a moment later his eyes shot open, his body felt more nimble and quick, just in time to dodge a small volley of four arrows._

_He weaved through them with apparent ease, one arrow intent on striking his leg and the others aiming for his torso and the last for his head, leaping forward he twisted his lithe form through the two arrows that would have struck his chest and the other his temple. Once they passed he flipped back and landed on his feet before leaping away again, this time dodging three more arrows, he planted his palm onto the ground and pushed himself off the ground once more, before twisting midair to land facing towards his equipment. As soon as he touched the ground he crouched low and shot off like a bullet towards his gear, passing by any other attack sent at him with ease, when he was close enough he leapt to a small perch near his equipment and used it as a spring point to jump the rest of the way to his weapon and ammo._

_Grabbing his equipment on the fly he attached his quiver to his back and grasping his bow tightly, glancing to his right he saw more arrows coming, using a nearby branch he altered his flight and dodged the arrows effortlessly. As he landed he pulled out an arrow and readied it all the while running towards the only clearing he knew did not have any hostiles, due to the fact he had not seen any projectiles come from its general direction, then to his far right he heard a single whine, ducking instinctively an arrow passed harmlessly over his head. Seeing the trajectory of the arrow he turned to its original source and fired off one of his own into the nearby woods, a moment later the arrow exploded in a ball of fire, bathing the green and blue serenity of the forest with a red hue._

_Sadly he didn't know if he hit his target or not, he heard no screams or cried of alarm from his attacker, but without another word he turned away from the forest and resumed his sprint towards the trees. Looking to either outrun his pursuers or draw them out so he could kill them, he knew he couldn't beat this many in a direct fight, he needed to get them someplace where he had the advantage and then take them out, but sadly this wasn't his jungle, it was theirs._

* * *

_Present_

* * *

An arrow struck the tree in front of him, its metal arrow heard burrowing deep into the bark, not deterred by the very apparent miss, he ducked under the arrow and continued on his way, he knew what they were doing; they were trying to lure him into a trap. He had been a shadow hunter for most of his life and he knew every single tactic in the book, he knew the best place to lay a trap and the right time to shoot an arrow, he knew every trick they did and he wouldn't fall for it. They were trying to lure his into a kill box and there they would finish him off, even with the aspect of the monkey he couldn't dodge a hail of arrows shot at him from all directions, he needed to turn the tables on these guys.

A moment later three arrows whizzed past his cranium, a hairsbreadth away from piercing his neck and head, he grimaced at the near miss that would have killed him if he was but a millisecond to slow. Seeing no other choice, his instincts kicked in and he channelled another animal aspect, he closed his eyes and a moment later he opened them showing off his golden hued eyes, then he sped off faster than any normal creature would be unable to. Leaping over roots and stone while ducking under low level branches he sped through the thick forest, his now animal hearing picking up the sounds of arrows flying through the air towards him, ducking he dodged once more three arrows, all intent on piercing his side. Rushing off in another direction his senses picking up the sound of many hurried footsteps and heavy breathing from his pursuers, removing his bow and drawing a single arrow, he fired it off into a seemingly empty area, it pierced through the air quickly reaching its destination but its intended target could not be discerned what-so-ever.

But then a blur passed through the spot, its form hard to make out as it rushed along the left flank of the Shadow Hunter, then as it passed between one tree to another it was violently struck and knocked to the ground, the only other sign his arrow had met its mark was the pained scream that escaped it lips. A smirk marred the trolls face as he continued to flee, the whimpering cries of his pursuer and his fellow comrades slowly falling behind, their footsteps and breathing soon becoming all that harder to hear. He continued his run until he heard nothing but the sound of the billowing of leaves on the wind, stopping abruptly he collapsed to his knees, completely exhausted, he would like nothing more than to allow himself to simply fall into the dark abyss that was unconsciousness. But the Loa's weren't smiling on his this day; he was being followed by, at most, a dozen highly skilled hunters, he was outnumbered and likely out of his league, they were good, they were very good.

Sure he could say he was better than them all, but when you're fighting against more than just one slightly less skilled archer and tracker than you, then you can't say your better than them. You could be the best swordsman in the entire world, but even one man can't fight his way through a dozen other swordsman, no matter how inferior they were to you, unless you're Varro, he through with a smirk.

But that smirked died quickly as a grim demeanour returned to him, he was trapped, even though he took out one of their boys it was likely they would continue to pursue him, with much more determination now since one of their own was likely dead or dying at this moment. Since he couldn't run from them nor could he allow them to capture him, he detested being captured, especially after that incident in Zul'Drak, so he was pretty much a dead man.

He was dead man walking and the only hope he had was to kill those who were after him, which was better said than done, he had enough arrows to carry out the task, but it was likely so did they, he groaned in exasperation before he straightened himself up. He took a deep breath and then focused on calling on another aspect, for a moment he stood there his eyes closed before his eyes shooting open, his golden hue still present in his eyes but now black slits replacing his once round pupils. Turning back the way he came he drew one arrow from his back and silently skulked back towards hid prey.

* * *

Retendis groaned in agony as the shaft of the arrow in his side was broken, he let out another pained whimper before the other started treating him, and he was leaning against a tree now with three rangers looking over him. Elladan looked down at the ranger for a moment before turning back to the forest to watch for their quarry, they have been chasing the creature for the last hour now and had been forced to halt their hunt after it was able to injure one of his rangers. He had been there where the ranger was struck; he had been hit cleanly between the fourth and fifth ribs on his right side, from what they could tell he was likely going to die, if not today then in a few days after they return to Rivendell. Though it was a horrible thing to have one of his soldiers die under his command his thoughts were on other matters, such as how his subordinate was injured, he had been struck with incredible accuracy, he was able to mortally wound his target on the fly as well as striking in a near impossible spot.

From what he had heard from the ranger that had witnessed it, being only a scant few feet away from the now dying man, the creature had fired off his arrow long before he had even seen the ranger pass by, in fact he was sure that it was the only spot where he would be able to strike the ranger without any obstacles. It was an impossible shot, there was no way he could have done it, even he wasn't skilled enough to pull off a shot when he couldn't see his target, but he did with what could be considered apparent ease. This was bad, if this beast skill was on par or even better than all of those here then it was unlikely they would come out of this without casualties, this hunt had become that much more deadly.

"My lord" Elladan turned to the left, standing there was one of his rangers, he was panting slightly, likely from the arduous pursuit they had all just been relieved of "our scouts have lost sight of it"

"Are there any tracks?"

"No, they saw they go on for fifty meters or so before completely disappearing, they said he..." he couldn't finish when a ghastly scream echoed through the forest, all rangers turned to the source of the disturbance and drew their bows. Elladan turned to the rangers and motioned them to follow; five rangers rushed to his side leaving only one to tend the injured Retendis, six in total moved forward towards the area where they last heard their comrades scream, moving quickly they covered much ground but still remained obscured from the font of the cry. Then as they neared it another shrill cry from afar, had it not been for his hard training or long experience Elladan would have been shocked and full of fear at hearing his brother scream, he pushed himself harder and moved to try and save his brother.

Crashing through a small fern he came upon a surprising sight, standing before him was a creature unlike anything he had ever seen before; it was a seven foot tall lanky man, very short, fine blue fur covered its body. It had two long protruding tusks coming out from its upper lip. A long set of ears that stretched as far back as its untamed shoulder length red hair, just like its long ears its nose shot out more than any other creature he had the pleasure of seeing, covered in dark brown and purple armour which looked as if it stole the light from around it, two large jagged pauldrons adorned its shoulders and a sense of worry took his heart. As in the creatures three fingered grip was his brother, the life slowly being choked out of him, the beast turned to Elladan and regarded him with cold eyes before throwing his brother away, who was taking in large gulps of air on the ground.

"You gonna pay for messin' wit' me, mon" stated the Troll, before he quickly drew and arrow and fired it at the elven lord, Elladan dodged to the right just as the troll released his arrow, even though he had prior warning of the attack he was only just able to dodge the attack, he felt the air current generated from the arrow brush against his cheek.

Elladan turned back to the creature and to his shock saw it rushing towards him, its oddly ornate bow in its hand, ready to deliver a devastating strike while he was unbalanced, seeing the bows wooden-like plate veering towards his head he acted. While he fell backward he grabbed the hilt of his sword in a reverse grip and quickly pulled it out of his sheath and in front of his face, metal clashed against metal, small sparks shot out between the two weapons as they fought for supremacy. But because of his current stance Elladan was forced off his feet and onto the ground, his back hitting the forested floor hard eliciting a groan of discomfort from the elf, looking up he saw the troll coming in for another attack. Quickly he tried to raise his sword but it was knocked aside by the bow and his arm pinned under his large two toes feet, he aimed his bow at the elf's head and quickly drew and arrow, pulling it back along the bow string he intended to impale the elven nobles head.

Looking up he saw the dark arrow head gleam in the early morning sun, as he looked up and do nothing but wait for what was his inevitable death, then before he could release his arrows he leapt away from the downed Elladan. As he leapt away four arrows flew by where he stood only moments ago, turning to his left he saw four of his rangers emerging from the tree line, the troll turned to them and with his arrow still ready to be released fired it off at the emerging group. Unlike their lord the ranger who was struck could only move fast enough to be struck in the shoulder rather than the chest, he spun on his feet before collapsing to the ground, then from behind the troll emerged the fifth elf of the group, sword in hand. As he dove down at the troll intent on stabbing him through the back he was violently countered, spinning in his heels the blue skinned troll deflected the blade with his bow and then sucker punched him in the face, sending the ranger to the ground in a heap.

Turning away from the downed man Zul'kal regard the five elven rangers before him, now he understood why they were giving him such a hard time, he didn't notice at first but they all had slightly elongated ears. Most elvish warriors were highly skilled when it came to using a sword or bow; they would go with something quick and all rounded rather than something bulky and slow, that's why he had such difficulty with them. Elves live a lot longer than all other races and that leads to a lot of experience, especially as a warrior, he was starting to have second doubts now about fighting these people, after all he knew he could go on par with a night elf sentinel but a team that was out of the question. And right now he felt like he was facing down a squad of them right now, he may have killed one or two, depending on the first guy he got, and disabled two more, but now that they had regrouped he doubted this will end in his favor.

He looked at them and saw the one he was choking earlier had gotten to his feet and drawn his sword, he gritted his teeth now, that was not good, he wasn't the up close and personnel type, if they came at him with that he was a dead man, quickly regeneration or not. As he looked at them he noticed something, two were missing, as he noticed this he had to take a step back as an arrow would have struck his temple had he not, as soon as he did however they were upon him. Two of them charged him, sword in hand, both to his surprise looked completely alike, the first surge forward bring his sword down on top of the unprepared troll, who could only raise his bow to stop the attack. When they connected he had to defend against another attack that was aimed at his midriff, looking down he saw the blade coming in quick, ready to cut him in half if it made contact, thinking quickly he reached for his belt and hulled out his dagger, with some effort he blocked the attack.

For a few moments the three struggled to overpower the other, one trying to cut into the trolls shoulder and the other trying to cut his in half at the waist, while the one on the receiving end of both attacks struggled to keep either of those two from happening. With a grunt he pulled off a very difficult to manoeuvre, he knocked the first's ones sword off his bow and towards his twin, and then shifting his weight and jumping he was able to flip to the side and over the second's one's blade. This was pulled off in an instant; both were thrown off balance and knocked into each other unceremoniously, while Zul'kal landed gracefully a hairsbreadth away, but before he could even rise from his slight crouch the twin warriors attacked again. Crouching low he put as much strength into his legs as possible as well as calling upon an aspect to help him, he leapt back twenty feet in a single bound, sliding to a stop he readied his bow and drew and arrow.

As he took it between his fingers he was forced to dodge as a hail of arrows attacked him from the side, leaping away again he saw the three remaining rangers standing their drawing more arrows to fire, as he landed he directed his attention to them and fired. They reacted quickly enough and dodged it without consequence, Zul'kal grimaced and muttered a curse under his breath, and he couldn't keep fighting like this, before he could retaliate against the archers one of the swordsmen was upon him. He brought his sword back to strike, taking the initiative Zul'kal rushed forward and intercepted the swing with his bow, stopping it dead in its tracks, and he then brought up his dagger to cut the elf's throat, as it moved towards him it was stopped by another blade. Looking slightly to the right he saw the other swordsman had saved his twin, he clenched his teeth in irritation, but before he could do anything his attention shifted to those further on his right.

The archers had just released another volley towards him, leaping back quickly he put as much distance as he could from the two swordsmen before he retaliated against the archers, drawing a special arrow he quickly shot it towards the three rangers. But to their surprise the arrows trajectory was far off than what one would expect from what they had seen so far from the troll, it struck the ground just behind the three, who took little interest in it and returned their attention back to the troll, without them noticing the light blue object that was wrapped along the shaft of the arrow. As soon as they turned away from it the arrow exploded into an overwhelming light of blue and white, the rangers screamed as they felt their legs up to their knees was frozen in place and unable to move.

Zul'kal grinned devilishly as the two swordsmen, who in turned glared dangerously at the troll, he had the archer where wanted them and now all he had to do was kill these two and then move on to the archers. But that was all well said than done at the moment, before he could think of a plan they attacked once more, attacking one at a time to try and take his attention away from one opponent to they could strike. This went on for a few minutes, small cuts started to mar the shadow hunter's body as he narrowly dodged thrusts and slashes from the two swordsmen, without so much as being able to land a single blow against them, he was in trouble right now. He couldn't use his aspect correctly against these guys; he needed speed to counter their attacks as well as some dexterity to block some of their more difficult to stop attacks, almost every moment he was switching between them and it was starting to take its toll. His breathing was laboured and his heart was pounding in his chest like an engine on a damn siege engine, he couldn't take much more of this, he was wounded bleeding and had little strength left to keep fighting, if that didn't change he was likely going to go berserk and either get killed or rendered unconscious from the exertion it would put on him.

They attacked once more, both blades raised high above their heads, a far cry from their usual tactics, as they came down on him he struggled to keep his bow up and he felt his already weakened arms starting to give out under the strain. Then suddenly his entire world was flooded with pain, it started in his back and coursed through his entire form, his knees started shaking uncontrollably, he nearly buckled under himself. Then the weight that above him suddenly was lifted and he stumbled forward, he looked around confused and saw one of the swordsman ram his sword towards him, having only a moment he tried to redirect it, he was partially successful. Instead of going into his stomach it entered along the side of his waist, he let out a pain cry as the cold steel cut deep; he grabbed hold of the swordsman arms to stop him from doing any more harm but had little strength to resist him.

As he felt the steel inside his body and his mind start to go blank and his form begin to go cold, he felt a new sensation run through his body, he felt his heart pump that much harder and his muscles tense for the oncoming blood bath. Elladon watched as the creature struggled to remove his sword from its side, after all the fighting it put up, it was finally beginning to fall, he had to admit this creature was cunning and skilful, a shame it was a beast and killed some of his men. As he looked over the beast shoulder he saw a single ranger standing there bow in hand, he was the one who wounded the creature long enough for them to deal the final blow, turning to his brother who was panting heavily. Before he could ask him to finish this creature off he felt his blade tremble, turning back he saw the troll entire form trembling, he thought the troll was going into some form of shock or was in fear, but when he heard a low growl escape its throat he knew otherwise.

Then in an instant his sword was ripped out of the trolls side, opening up a large wound along the waist, Elladan was so shocked that he didn't have time to see the fist that sailed towards him, he felt the entire world go dark for a moment before he awoke on the ground a few seconds later. Looking up he saw the troll lean down and pick him up by the collar of his armor, he could see the rage and murder in the beast eyes, the troll through the elven noble aside and then advanced on his twin. Discarding its bow he resorted to using its hands, Elrohir raised his sword to defend himself but his weapon hand was caught by the troll, twisting his arm slowly into an uncomfortable angle he brought the elf to his knees. When Elrohir dropped his weapon no longer able to hold it in his twisted arm, the troll drew back its fist, he was struck hard in the jaw and fell onto his hands along with his knees, the troll then grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him up before tossing him back onto the earth. As he hovered over the downed Elrohir and reached for him, but when an arrow was lodged into its shoulder it let out a roar, before turning towards its attacker and rushing off to confront it.

Zul'kal turned to the elf ranger in the distance, it drew another bow and fired it, it was lodged into his stomach, which further angered the berserk troll, rushing forward he tackled the elf to the ground and started to beat his skull in. Every time he retracted his hand to deliver another strike it came away more bloody, for Zul'kal he had no idea what was going on, his blind had been overshadowed with a single desire, kill everything and anything in sight, as he delivered the later blow, which was rewarded with a sharp crack he turned to see one of the swordsman attack him from behind. As he brought his sword down his arm was grabbed by Zul'kal and then another was wrapped around the elf's throat, he watched as he choked the life out of the swordsman, he tightened his grip around the delicate stem, earning himself a wheeze from the elf.

Before he could crack the offending creatures neck however, Zul'kal felt a sharp pain course all the way from his arm from shoulder to his elbow, he stepped back, bewildered as to what happened before it was replaced with anger. He turned to see his hand still wrapped around the elf's throat, his twin next to him with a newly bloodied sword, but his forearm was no longer connected to him, he looked down to see his arm had been severed in two, just below the elbow. Blood seeped and spurted out of the stump slowly, he took a few stumbling steps backward and when his back came to rest against a tree he collapsed against it. Slowly his anger drained away from him and so did his anger, his adrenaline died down and the pain that was masked by it returned tenfold, he didn't have the strength to cry out in pain or even more, he felt so weak, he just wanted to rest.

He looked up at the two swordsman both brandishing their weapons, looking ready to put him out of his misery, but he wouldn't be awake to see the final blow coming, his head slumped forward as the last of his energy gave way, and soon his eyes flicker out and darkness took him.

* * *

**There you have it, hope you like how this chapter went, left it with a cliff hanger, will Zul'kal live or is this the end of the Shadow Hunter of the Dark Spear tribe.**


	11. Chapter 09: Battle of the North - Part 2

**Hello to all, and all a good day  
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**Jimmy here, with the latest chapter in my slightly okay story, Lords of Warcraft  
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**Now to let you all know i will be posting this chapter up along with another called United Against the Legion of Flames (If any of you can make up something short i will be so~ happy. *Wink*)  
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**and i have also made a slight change to the previous chapter, nothing important just adjusted a few character descriptions  
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**And also I would like to announce i have a Beta-Reader for this story, his name is KHAAAAAN! (or Gavoon if you're using his Fanfiction name)  
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**Anyway, onto answering some of your reviews (even though some are not questions)  
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**MaiaGen: I aim to please  
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**Hero's Valor: I hope so too  
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**Leapinglemur: I HAVE ONLY ONE THING TO SAY TO YOU!... Thank you for being so nitpicky, it shows me where I went wrong so that I may improve upon myself as a writer, please continue with you nitpickyness and help me improve. As you probably know, I am kind of a... idiot (not in the brains department, just in the way I act, and talk, and look at people, and mostly other things that make me very lonely - so lonely~ i'm so lonely~ I have nobody~ I'M ON MY OWN NOW~ - LOL anyway keep up the good work and so shall I.  
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**Kiue Jin: I like you, I like you a lot right now, these scenarios are something I like, and because of that, I am going to have a voting poll, which will be explained at the end of the story, so please everyone and everybody vote and decide on the fate of out lovable pervert. and Jin keep giving me possible plot devices, i would love to see what you think would happen, hell everyone give me some idea's. (Nothing to raunchy alright).  
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**Gavoon: Fix them now *crack* you make the story good again or you get the whip again. That's right Gavoon you are my new beta-reader, so start cracking and so shall I *crack*.  
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**Fallen Maiar: Why you so nice at first then so mean :_( seriously, though this is what I wanted, this is my first story and I want to leave a good impression so that when I do move onto another that I have at least know where to put my punctuation marks.  
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**Too all, I will be putting up my other story, United Against the Legion of Flames (PM me or review if you have a better or shorter name for my story) and I intend to ask you guys to visit it and give me your opinions on it, also, I am looking for people to help me with the small request inside. so read and weep and then do as I say.  
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**Now on with the story.**

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**Chapter 09: Battle of the North Part 02: The Path through Nan Wathren**

**Nan Wathren Eastern Pass**

Gildor Inglorion and his fifteen warriors – who followed closely behind him - and the hulking behemoth that was the Tauren Shaman, they had just entered through the mountain's hidden pass to Nan Wathren, where the once great fortress of Hîgropor defended these mountain ranges from invaders seeking to use it to their advantage. But now all that remained was the ruins that have long been forgotten by most mortal men and become known as the ruined stronghold of an army of orcs and goblins calling themselves the Tarkrip, the irony of a fortress created to prevent the enemy from using the pass is now in the hands of that very enemy was not missed.

"Move forward" ordered Gildor quietly, keeping his voice low enough so only his soldiers would hear him, they obeyed as soon as he uttered the words, moving forward at a quick yet cautious pace. Mairne kept a few paces behind them, keeping his from as well concealed as he could, he wasn't one for stealth but that does not mean he could not hide himself if he needed to, but he was nearing his limit, he hasn't slept in days and he was starting to feel weak. His vision was groggy and his other sense were dulled to the point where at some points he lost his hearing, he couldn't carry on like this for much longer, it was only midday and they still had a long way to go before his legs give out from under him.

The group stopped close to a wider area of the trail, shouting and clanging could be heard around the corner of the gorges natural stone walls, Gildor rushed ahead and pressed himself against the side of the wall and slowly inched himself towards the corner. Looking around the smooth rounded corner he saw a small camp of orcs and goblins, he counted thirty in total, all of them armed with corroded swords or makeshift bows and arrows; it seemed that only the goblins wore any armor. Slowly moving away from the corner and just earshot of the creatures he called over his second in command; Medlichen approached and kneeled down next to his lord, sparing another glance back to the camp that hid around the corner he spoke to him.

"There a small camp around the bend, thirty combatants, twenty three orcs and seven goblins, five of which have bows, we can't sneak around them, we need to get rid of them quickly." Stated Gildor; taking on a commanding tone, and speaking with all seriousness on the current situation.

"How do you plan to remove them my lord?" asked Medlichen, who looked around to the corner that blocked off the view of the orc's camp, before taking another quick glance to the other fifteen rangers. "We don't exactly have the numbers to hit them directly."

"Your right, we need more firepower to kill them all quickly, but we just don't have It." stated Gildor, who had his hand on his chin thinking of a solution to their little problem.

"Maybe you don't, but I do." the deep powerful voice startled the elves, who turned around to see the hulking figure behind them, Mairne Ragetotem, then he noticed that he was down on one knee and even so still was taller than him. "I will lure the orcs out of the camp and into the centre of the pass, strike them from behind, remove the easier targets first and then I'll remove the rest."

"Are you sure, to use yourself in such a way would be dangerous, they could shoot you if you aren't right" asked Gildor, who was only slightly taken back by the shamans abrupt appearance.

"I have faith that all will be well, but do not worry, I don't wear heavy robes and thick amour just to appear stylish." joked Mairne, earning him a smirk from Gildor and a scoff from Medlichen, who still distrusted the beast in front of him.

Mairne rose from his knee and walked away from the two elves, whom upon his departure rose themselves and began carrying out their part of the plan, rushing back to the spread out elvish warriors they began giving their orders. Mairne took a deep breath and started to walk toward the centre of the widening path before him, acting as if he did not notice the orc camp that sat only a few meters to his left, as he did he thought about what he could use to defeat the enemies should his allies not have ample time to finish them all off.

He had overheard the elf's necessity to kill them in silence, sadly he wasn't a rouge or a hunter in that regards, he was a shaman and that usually came with 'killing the enemy with a lot of show of force and power'. He had few calls he could use to kill them but to target a wide group and in his condition it would require some time, so when he started he had no choice but to hope that the archers could kill the majority of the orcs before the call was finished or pick off those that remained afterwards. As he continued to walk he was torn from his musing when he heard a deep howl and several grunts from his left, turning he saw the orcs and goblins had finally noticed him, albeit the fact he had nearly traversed half of the bowl shaped gap and only now had they noticed his presence.

'Maybe we should have tried to sneak around' he mused, he was in plain sight and they hadn't noticed.

They brandished their weapons and slowly advanced on him, but they didn't make any threatening movements or actions, they were likely going to see what it was that entered their little camp before they kill it. Just as he hoped, he regarded them with a bored interest and took note of their amour, or better yet lack of, and positions, he may be skilled but ten weapons coming at you at once is not an easy thing to dodge. Eventually they all took up a small crescent shaped formation in front of him, their backs towards the eastern pass, he glanced over them to see the completely abandoned pass, no sign of the rangers, but he knew they were there, hiding behind a loose boulder or dead tree waiting to strike.

Without giving himself away, he began channeling a 'spell', he didn't have time to be patient with these creatures and hope they stayed where they are, he needed to remove them before they did anything, he felt a heavy pressure begin to condense over his hands. As he continued the chant, feeling the power coursing through him ready to be released at any moment, he looked at the creatures before him and saw they had sense something was wrong, some gripped their swords that much tight, while others drew arrows and prepared to fire them. Then before they could even think about moving to attack, five of them dropped dead in an instant. Three goblins and two unarmored orcs fell face first into the dirt, and then in the next moment three more fell, there was no sound or immediate explanation. For a moment they thought it was the creature before them that had done it, but they were wrong, he was about to show them what he could do, he pulled his arm back and swung it hard at the enemy.

As he drew back his arm he outstretched his fingers, as he did the ground to his side erupted into an explosion of dust, and as Mairne's arm flew forward small fissures followed where his fingers pointed, eventually turning into three cut marks in the earth, eventually Mairne passed over an orc, and as soon as he did the orc was torn apart. Its body was severed into many different pieces, its head was cut off from its shoulders, its torso separated itself into two pieces at the midriff and his legs above his knees were torn out from under him. It was hard to see if anything else happened because as soon as the strike hit he was engulfed in a cloud of dirt, but its gruesome death did not end with just him, all those alongside him suffered a similar fate, cut down into many pieces before being consumed in a cloud of dirt and rock. When Mairne's arm stopped over his chest so did the attack, for a moment there was nothing but a thick cloud of dirt blocking both the Shaman and the elves from seeing one another, as well as his victims, he watched patiently as the dust began to settle and was able to see the elves and the remains of the orcs.

Laying there were thirty dead orcs, in many different pieces, most were killed by Mairne's attack and at least one third from the arrows from the elves; he looked down at his work and couldn't help but see the effectiveness of the attack he just performed. **The Wind Talon**, it was a powerful wind elemental spell that is used by a shaman to actually use the air to cut his enemies apart, first they would need to gather all the necessary mana into their palm and draw in and condense a large amount of air. Once this is done your simply release the air in a controlled burst current, using the tips of your fingers as a conduit in which direction the air current travels, but it is not without its risks. Gathering so much air one spot can actually crush ones hands and others times if you lose focus and the pressure is released it could literally take your arm with it, he had seen it before with a shaman who tried to learn the ability, his entire right arm was lost as was his respect from the wind elementals who warmed him of its dangers. It took years of experience to master the element of air before even attempting to learn the ability, to do so too soon was dangerous and deadly, the only reason Mairne was able to learn the ability was because his master had been trained in its use.

He may have been able to perform the spell, but that did not change one fundamental problem, he was not a master of the ability, he could not fully control the length of the current nor could he use it without walking away without an injury. He looked down at his hand and grimaced as he balled it into a fist, he felt the bones in his hand crack as they were reset into place and his muscles ache from the pressure put on it - no he was not a master yet and he feared that he may not live to fully master it one day, not with how Azeroth was becoming. He was torn from his musing when he heard footsteps approaching, turning he saw the elves walking over the remains of the dead orcs, grimacing and gaping at the sight beneath their feet, in front of them was Gildor, a looked a shocked awe on his face.

"What… What did you do?" he asked, looking back behind him to see that the only orcs that had been spared the dismemberment were the ones who were already on the ground dead.

"It was an ability of mine, but I will tell you of it another time, for now we must continue, that settlement is still in danger" replied the High Shaman, before turning around and making his way further into Nan Wathren.

As Mairne moved off, leaving the elves by themselves, Gildor couldn't help but stare off towards the Tauren in complete awe of his abilities; he killed twenty orcs with but a swipe of his hand, which was something that even the most powerful of magical users could not do on a whim, or at all for that matter. But he did it, and as he looked down he saw three a crescent gouges in the earth, like a massive claw had been swiped through the ground by some massive beast, it was terrifying to see his power up close, he had felt the anger and hate from that Fire Elemental only a few hours ago and now he had witnessed the Shaman's own power first hand. Beside the elven noble was Medlichen, his fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword, turning to his second in command he saw his eyes boring into the Shamans back, he knew he didn't like him but the animosity he saw in his eyes was something that he couldn't understand.

"My lord, is it really a good idea having it here?" Medlichen started suddenly, earning him a puzzled look from his superior "I mean, if he has that much power would it not be dangerous to let it live, shouldn't we kill it before it causes any harm."

"I will remind you that it saved eight people from an orc encampment earlier today and then personally escorted one of them back here." Stated Gildor, he saw that Medlichen looked to retort, but continued before his senior officer could respond "and to our great fortune he motivated our warriors and then decided that he would join us in defending a settlement from an orc army, so tell me: how is he in any way a threat to anyone?"

Medlichen stood there astounded at the effort his lord put into defending the creature, he had actually put forth all the deeds he had done and not given him a single chance to form a rebuttal, how could he defend something like that, what had it done to earn his trust. He knew when Gildor met with the Shaman; Inglorion viewed it in almost the same light as he did, but what had caused his sudden change in opinion of the creature, when he spoke to the men he allowed it to, first coming off as insulting their honor and pride before riling them up into a frenzy. What happened? When he spoke with his lord after his little speech to the troops, Gildor thanked him for his words and then offered to have him sent to Rivendell, how could he allow such a thing, the creature would cause untold havoc if he entered the city. No, there was more to this creature than what could be plainly seen, and he would figure out what he was and how he was able to manipulate the elven lord into trusting him, and when he did he would put the beast down.

Gildor watched as his second ponder his words for a moment, not to happily he saw, the elven noble could understand his distrust of the shaman, true even he was wary of the giant creature, but there was little he could do. He had shown no signs of aggression, apart from when he was provoked by them, and with his power and ally that hid within his pauldrons there was little he could do along with anyone else, he had hoped to have him delivered to Rivendell where Elrond could help him. But since he had decided he would aid them in saving Trestlebridge he saw reason to look a gifted horse in the mouth, as that human saying goes, he could use this as an opportunity to see if he could be trusted. Medlichen may not like it, but he had to think of the innocent, this Shaman was powerful and was offering to help how he could refuse such a proposal, turning around he saw Medlichen had already moved off to get the rangers together.

'I hope he at least puts his personnel views aside for the time being' he thought, Medlichen was always passionate when it came to keeping Lin Giliath safe, and because of that he had developed an almost narrow-minded view of the world.

* * *

Mairne walked casually through the now narrowing path that led deeper into the canyon that was Nan Wathren, as he did he felt unease worm its way into his stomach, there was something going on here that he did not like. He soon came to stop as he was able to see deeper into the gorge where several small camps were scattered across the charred and blasted landscape, and with them were many orcs and goblins, more than he or these elves could handle alone. He scanned the area ahead of him, even though he wasn't at a good vantage point he could see that if he tried to get closer he would be seen easily, either by those in the camps or by whatever sentries they had on top of the canyons walls.

But he couldn't allow that to happen, especially so early in their infiltration of the area, if they were found out they would likely be swarmed by the orcs before they could even make it out of the narrow corridor they occupied at the moment. He looked down at the camps once more, not surprised to see at least a hundred or so where occupying the region, but it wasn't the numbers that underwhelmed him, but the fact only a dozen were actually moving around. It looked like most of them were just sitting around the camp fire either eating or doing some other trivial task to stave off boredom; it looked like they were waiting for something interesting to happen. Sadly for them he wasn't going to indulge them, he had to reach the village before the day after tomorrow, otherwise the entire settlement would be uprooted, he needed to find a vantage point to scout out a path.

Turning to his right he noticed a small plum of black smoke rising into the air, there was an orc encampment on top of the cliff, he slowly approached the rock face, deciding that waiting for the others would not be necessary. When he reached the cliff face he crouched down all the while generating a wind current beneath him, with a single leap he launched himself up towards the precipice of the cliff, when he reached it the air current died down and he simply stepped onto the side of the bluff. Noticing instantly a small camp of orcs and goblins - either cooking their lunch or sharpening their weapon with a handful acting as guards - snorting at the pathetically undisciplined creatures he grabbed his hammer and his shield before advanced on them.

* * *

Gildor and the rest of his ranger made their way along the path, following after the shaman's trail; whom had moved on ahead of them, after having to deal with the dead bodies of the orcs, likely looking for a way to get through the orc camps ahead. He may not fully trust the creature - but he was confident that he wouldn't try anything that would endanger them, after all he was no more a friend to the orcs than the elves, but having out of his sight was a little disturbing to say the least. He had heard some murmuring from the elves about the Shaman, surprisingly they were not all negative, most commented on his ability to use magic and defeat so many orcs in a single attack. He surmised that the invigorating speech he gave them earlier this morning was the reason for their slight trust in the creature; after all they had little to nothing in the way of morale, and a single speech from him had them ready to go to the gate of Mordor.

After a few more minutes of walking they eventually found a wide path leading down towards a large open canyon area filled with orcs and goblins, cursing slightly under his breath - he had heard that there were orcs in the pass, but not this many. He had been informed only a few days ago that the orcs only numbered in the dozens, it looked like they had over a hundred of them here, this was bad if he couldn't get through these orcs quickly, and it wouldn't matter if he reached Trestlebridge or not. He knew the layout of the area very well and he knew that the best way through would be straight ahead, but that was the worst place he could try to pass at the moment, the orcs were just too numerous they wouldn't stand a chance against them, even with the shaman's help. The shaman, then it occurred to him, where is he? He didn't see him when he came here; he couldn't have gone done there, could he? A small amount of worry crept into his gut that the shaman may have done something rash.

He turned to his second and saw he was thinking the exact same thing, but likely for different reasons, before either could speak a word they were alerted to something on the right, turning they saw a very surprising sight. They witnessed a small tornado near the side of the cliff. They watched as it churned up dust and dirt, as they followed it up with their eyes, they saw an even more shocking sight, at its pinnacle they saw the shaman slowly being lifted down by the twister. A few moments later he was on the ground and the small cyclone was gone. They all stared at him in complete shock, it would seem he his powers were not only just offensive, he approached Gildor, who like his subordinates was surprised by his entrance.

"Inglorian" greeted Mairne.

"Ragetotem" replied the elven noble evenly.

"I suspect you know you cannot pass through the valley ahead" stated Mairne, which earned him a displeased grunt from Gildor, and a few quiet murmurs from his second in command, which could not be made out. "I have come to the same conclusion; therefore I have taken the opportunity to make us a path."

Gildor looked up at him, not to sure what he meant by it, but on closer inspection he could see small blots of red covering his dark brown fur, as well as his weapon which was dripping wet with fresh blood, he looked into the Shaman's eyes before he asked.

"What did you do?" he interrogated, his eyes boring into the Tauren's, he couldn't be too sure if the shaman had just gone off and killed a few orcs of his own volition, or if he had to remove some un wanted witnesses. He couldn't risk the shaman going off and just killing them off, he may have no problem with their deaths, but if they are caught or the orcs raise the alarm then they would have an impossible time trying to get through the pass.

"There was a camp it the top of the wall" pointing to the same wall he had just descended from "We cannot advance down the pass; our only option is to go around it, and the only place we can do that is on the high ground. I removed the camp and its inhabitants."

"I gave no order for you to attack the orcs, your actions could have put the mission at risk" Mairne could see what the elf was doing, he wanted to make sure that he didn't do anything stupid that would endanger their mission, he would admit if he was in command and one of his own had done so without his expressed permission he would not be too amused.

"Inglorion, I know you have trust issue when regarding other races, but let me alleviate your worries, I am not some blood crazed berserker looking to kill everything in his sights, I killed them because it opens up a path that was closed to us. I know what I am doing, I have lived long enough to learn from my past mistakes, so please try to not judge me as some animal that needs to be on a leash." He stated plainly, rubbing the weariness out of his eyes, before he turned to the elf with cold steely eyes and spoke with a tone to match his stare "You know what happened last time you did such a thing, do not make the same mistake again."

Mairne kept his gaze on the elf for a moment, taking in his shocked expression, before turning away and making his way back over to the cliff face, Gildor simply watched him leave with nothing but plain shock written on his face. Gildor berated himself for his thoughtless accusation, he wasn't dealing with another soldier, he was dealing with a very powerful magical being, one who has been very patient with him - which is the one reason he is likely not a pile of ash right now. He remembered the searing heat and power that the spirit within his pauldrons contained, it was like an inferno that was condensed into a single point, and if he was to make an enemy of the shaman he would not remain one for long.

"My lord, why do we not strike him down, he is a threat." said Medlichen, his anger very evident, but his words were heard on deaf ears, Gildor was still staring at the shaman's retreating form.

"What did he mean for Gildor to 'not to make the same mistake again'" asked one of the soldiers to his fellow warrior, his only response was a shrug, but like Medlichen's his words went unheard.

"My lord are you alright" asked another soldier, before he could reach to look at his commander the Shaman had stopped, this knocked the elven noble out of his contemplation, he looked towards the uneasy group of elves and called out to them.

"What are you waiting for? We have to get to Trestlebridge before the orcs do, now get over here so we can get a move on." He commanded, for a moment they remained where they stood, some casting uncertain glances towards their actual commander, who seemed to be staring off into the distance.

Taking an uncertain step forward he tried to calm himself, 'he is our ally', he thought to himself trying to make himself take another step, one that wasn't so forced, 'he said he would help us', he took another step before walking at a normal pace towards the shaman. The elven rangers looked at one another apprehensively; they had seen their commander's hesitation and to their disbelief knew he was fearful of the Shaman, they had seen him lead warriors in many battles and won against insurmountable odds. But the fact he was cowed by this one creature, who stood in height just short of a rock troll, he knew it wasn't his figure that scarred the elven noble but what he knew about the creature that they didn't, and that was terrifying for them just as much as their lord.

Just as Gildor did they each took a few cautious steps forward before walking over to the waiting Tauren, eventually they were all standing in front of the eight and a half foot tall Shaman waiting for him to do whatever he was planning on doing, with a one quick glance over the group he prepared the call. A moment later the warriors were swept up off their feet, they rose through the air at a quick pace and even though they thought they had lost their balance they were strangely kept upright. The levitation was brief as a few moments later they were all gently placed down on solid ground, for most of them when the light air pressure that surrounded their bodies dissipated collapsed to the ground, nearly all of them had shocked and frightened looks on their faces, save for one.

"What the hell did you do!" shouted Medlichen, his anger very evident; Mairne glanced at him for a moment before replying calmly.

"It was a call, I simply created a current of air to lift us off the ground and up to this perch" he didn't looked at the elf when he spoke, instead looking around to make sure his loud protests went unnoticed to any possibly prying eyes.

"Are you insane, there could be orcs up here, you could be leading us into a trap!" he bellowed, Mairne sighed in irritation at the elf, he was becoming a nuisance.

"I have dealt with the orcs before you arrived, there are none on this section; we can move at a much quicker pace and bypass all the camp in the canyon." He turned away from the elves and scanned the path they would be taking, he saw a small pillar of smoke a few miles away, he supposed that they could reach the camps by nightfall and from there they could make a small camp nearby and rest for the night.

"How do we know that, you come here and offer us aid against an orc army, for what? Because it was the right thing to do, there is no way a beast such as you would…" before he could utter another word he was grasped tightly around the neck and lifted off the ground, he tried to claw at the offending limb that held him in place. He felt his nails claw against hard steel and his breath hitch in his throat, he looked at his attacker and saw the hard steely eyes of the Shaman, he could see the fire in his eyes and they were cast directly at him.

"Keep your tongue behind your teeth" Mairne growled in a low dangerous tone, daring him to do otherwise so that he may show him what he would be rewarded with, if he wasn't flailing for his life Medlichen would have shuddered from the cold words that were spoken. "Your arrogance I do not care for, your prejudice even more so, your childish racism is not needed here, you are a soldier. Act like it, or I will discard you as the worthless heap you are."

He pulled the elf close to peer into his eyes, Medlichen stopped struggling to look into the burning orbs that appeared to be searing his very soul with their gaze, with an unceremonious toss he discarded the elf and turned away from the rest of them. He had dealt with racist and bigots before, but these creatures annoyed him much more than most others, he was tired and his temper was on a short fuse, he may be the type who likes to keep his emotions in check but he wouldn't have it when they were in a life and death situation. The fool was acting like a child who didn't like the new kid, it was pathetic, he understood how some races had distrust for one another, the Humans and Orc were a perfect example, he had expected more from these elves, he had thought they would be smart enough to know when and how they should act in certain situation.

Sighing once more and taking a few calming breaths he looked down the large open path before him, he had a long way to go before they reach the village, he estimated maybe two days the way they were travelling now, this pass was big and if they didn't get through it quickly they may be too late to be of any help. He heard the quiet murmuring behind him from the elves, they were following after him, he was at least grateful that some of them actually had some idea, this was a prelude to a battle the last thing they need was one of their own acting like a fool and getting them killed. With that in mind he picked up the pace and strode all that much faster, ignoring the small pleas from his aged and weary body to slow.

* * *

**Evendium**

It was nearly midnight at Tinnudir keep, Calenglad had just finished training the latest recruits in night exercises, he had a very eventful day, it started with him saying farewell to his friend and fellow ranger Aragorn, as well as his energetic new companion Annie. He couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's slight misfortune, he was always the solitary type and never did like working with others, he could remember the childish smile on the gnomes face when they left, it was contrast to the grim face Aragorn wore before they turned and left.

He slumped down into his chair behind his stone desk and looked at the small piece of paper in front of him, it was a list, given to him by Annie Froststorm, and she said it was all the names of the people that may have come here with her. There were over a dozen names – Sefri Anvilheart, Varro Dreadbringer, Zul'kal, Adria Darkweaver, Rosaria Wildmane, Tyresa 'The Wrathful' Dalthorhim, Mairne Ragetotem, Joana Lightlance, Gabriel Morris, Mira Arcanus, Derrick Walker, Beugan Ironskin – she said these were the likely people who would have come through whatever portal that brought her here, their names however strange weren't what caught his attention, but their description and 'races'.

He had no problem with the fact that several of them were human - aside from one who was a walking corpse – that wasn't really a problem, but the in-human ones would be; he couldn't fathom how a place existed with such diverse races. The elves may pass off as any other elf, the dwarves may have some trouble but only so much, but this Tauren, Troll and Orc would definitely cause harm if they were found in dangerous territory, he was reassured by Annie that the Tauren and troll would not attack anyone lest he be attacked first. But she told him if anyone finds Varro, 'do not fight him, do not insult him, do not look at him, and whatever you do: do not order him around' her face was serious when she spoke about him, he couldn't help but shudder at the description she gave of him as well as his weapon which was longer than he was in height.

He had to admit that the thought of these unknown creatures being here was hard to take in, but he had to go along with it for now, he pushed the paper across the table and out of view, he was tired and wanted to have a moments reprieve before he had to sort out tomorrows schedule. But the Valar were not to kind today, he heard a quick set of knocks at the door, sighing he straightened himself up and called for them to enter. As soon as he saw who the messenger was he focused all his attention on her, she knew the elf ranger; and the special envoy to lord Gildor Inglorian, who was currently in the North Downs.

Calenglad knew that when the Elvan noble sends his right hand woman here he was asking for something, or was delivering very dire news, the ranger approached the table and as soon as she was in front of the desk she spoke, not waiting for Calanglad to allow her to speak.

"Sir, an orc army has amassed in the North Downs; there are two hundred of them moving towards Trestlebrige, they will be there in two days' time." She stated her voice impassive to such alarming news.

Calanglad was shocked by this news, an orc army had amassed in the North and he was just hearing about it now, his scouts and rangers should have discovered if there was an orc army massing to the north, long before they would have even considered getting together. This was bad; his rangers were too far spread out across Eradior, he needed time to gather them together, he estimated he had maybe thirty rangers in total, to come up with a sizable force to hold them back he needed three days, but by then they would be in the Bree-lands and possibly in the Shire.

"We don't have enough men to halt such a force, and even if we did we would be unlikely to arrive in time" he murmured, just audible enough for the elven ranger to hear him, he was deep in thought now, he was in a predicament.

He didn't have the numbers to assault a force so large, he needed more men to help, and he needed to gather every single ranger in the region before he could even consider marching to the North Downs, which would take just as long as it would take for the orcs to arrive at Trestlebridge – before sacking it, killing all its inhabitants and then burning it to the ground. Cursing under his breath he had to think of a plan, and he had very little idea where to start, he couldn't send the thirty rangers off to fight, they would surely be killed, he needed to gather more men and to send warning to the forces in Bree to prepare for an orc attack. He immediately got up from his desk and dashed for the door, the elven ranger right behind him, he pushed the wooden doors open and with a loud thud they connected to the wall, he took noticed of three rangers ahead of him and marched towards the trio.

When the three saw their commander marching towards them with a grim demeanor they were little worried what might happen next, two expressed their unease with a nervous look between each other, as soon as he was standing in front of them he spoke, not giving them a chance to speak.

"You three, gather all the rangers here, all of them, including the guards, and instructors, I want everyone here, now" he ordered, taking on a commanding presence to the three in front of him, before they could even begin to fathom what was going on they rushed out to get everyone else together.

Calanglad turned to the elven ranger behind him, who was studying her human counterpart, Calanglad took a deep breath before exhaling, he needed to keep calm and think clearly now, this was no time to be worried about what was happening, he needed to plan how to deal with it.

"Correct me if I am wrong" said the elven ranger "But you said so yourself: you did not have the man power to fight the orcs, then why are you marshalling your forces?"

"I'm not gathering them to go to the North Downs, I'm gathering them to go to Bree-Lands; we can't reach the village it time, we have only one choice: try to reach the Northern Bree-Fields and defend it, if we can manage that, we may be able to stop them from spreading out across the Bree-lands and into the Shire."

"You do know what you are suggesting do you not?" asked Gwesgylliel, her features plain, but her voice carrying a small trace of concern.

"I do, we cannot hope to reach the village and be able to stop the orc horde in time, it is a sacrifice that must be made in order for the majority to survive" said Calenglad, though his tone contradicted what he was saying.

"I understand, I will return to Trestlebridge" she said, giving the ranger a short bow before turning to the door to leave, she stopped momentarily and cast the human a sidelong glance before saying "Do not let your actions trouble you, you are not the first person to be forced into a situation such as this, just be hopeful you do not have carry out such a task ever again."

She turned away from the ranger, missing the thoughtful look that replaced his solemn one, as she left she saw twenty five rangers enter through the stone archway and into the main hall of the fort, she did not give them a single glance and continued on her way. She had to return to Trestlebridge, in one day's hence, was when the attack began, and with the rangers unable to help they would be forced to do only one thing: hold them back for as long as they could.

* * *

**Nan Wathren**

Gildor and his band of warriors sat on a small perch overlooking the open canyons of Nan Wathren, including the many hundreds of orcs that called the chasm floor home, he and his men had made good time passing through the canyon. He believed they could reach Trestlebrige by dawn the day after tomorrow, very likely before the attack, which was good, it may not change the fact that they were outnumbered, but if they could hold off long enough maybe reinforcement could arrive to relieve them before they are overwhelmed. He turned to his ranger, most of which were doing the same as him: keeping an eye on the enemy below, but there was only one why was keeping his eyes on the 'enemy' with them, Gildor sighed.

Medlichen had been watching that shaman ever since their confrontation several hours before, Gildor was not happy about the way the shaman had handled the argument, but he could see the point behind it. Medlichen was not being rational about the whole situation, he was supposed to be his senior officer and he was giving more negative comments on Mairne then he was on actual input on their mission, even he would admit the ranger was getting on his nerves. If he didn't wise up soon enough he would likely be forced to deal with him, he was content with beating him but his more rational side said to berate his foolishness and disrespect – not to the shaman, but to the fact he can call himself a ranger and not act like one.

Casting his eyes to his subordinate's ire he saw the shaman, sitting cross legged on the ground in what seemed to be a meditative position, he had no idea what he was doing, he had said that he had been awake for several days now, he would have thought the first chance he got he would try to sleep. But the way he saw the shaman he had the distinct impression he was doing something important, he said he was an envoy between the living and spirit world, so it's possible that he is trying to speak with them, he found that slightly odd. He wondered how the Shaman would go about such a task.

* * *

**?**

Mairne opened his eyes and looked over the land before him, it was a starch contrast to the Nan Wathren he had been journeying through earlier in the day, and though the path through the mountains was a desolate ruin this place was far more corrupted. He looked around and felt dark energy coursing through the land and bleeding out of the earth as if the world was bleeding, rising black slime rose out of the earth and dispersed through the air, he could feel the corruption that infested the land as clear as day.

He journeyed across the landscape for an hour, feeling the corruption source as he took every step, he could not help but feel sick with every step he took, he was a Shaman and his duty was to protect the balance of the world. This corruption that infects the spirit realm of this world had been corrupted by mean through the mortal one, meaning that these orcs are likely the ones responsible for what has happened here, after he is done with his business at Trestlebridge he will return and heal this land.

Mairne stopped expectantly, his eyes darting around, he had heard something – when travelling through the spirit world one must always be careful, to trespass on the realm of the spirits whether they be elemental or otherwise is a dangerous task – turning he saw nothing approach from behind and turning again he saw nothing. He would have passed it off as his imagination, but he knew that one can never take chances when within this realm, for even a shaman – an envoy between the realms and an ally to the elemental spirits should be cautious around them – he was not welcome in this realm, especially when uninvited.

Before he could discern what it was that had taken his notice he was whispered to through his body that remained behind in the mortal realm, Ignia's fiery voice echoed in his mind.

"Shaman, you must return, that elf noble is in front of you"

Closing his eyes Mairne focused on pulling his soul from the realm of the living, slowly he felt his form begin to fade; he felt the dark corruption that weaved around him dissipate as his soul reconnected with his body. Unbeknownst to his was a solitary figure that watched from above as the Shaman slowly disappeared, he had followed the Shaman since his arrival in this realm; trying to discern the creatures presence and power to travel through their realm. He could feel the power that rushed off of the being, it was like him, elemental in nature, he had power over the elements and he could sense another in his presence, he would require further observation.

* * *

**Nan Wathren**

Gildor walked over to the Shaman, studying him as he approached, he noticed the shallow breaths and rapid eye movement, which was more than any other body movement he had shown for the last hour or so. As he stood in front of the Shaman he could see the flames in his pauldrons intensify slightly, almost in a threatening gesture from the elemental within, hiding his slightly anxiety behind a stoic face he spoke.

"Mairne, are you awake?" he asked, when he got no reply he was a little surprised, from what he could discern from him he wasn't the type to be a heavy sleeper, he leaned forward and spoke again. "Mairne, can you hear me?"

A moment later the Shaman's eyes opened and stared at the elf in front of his, Gildor looked into his weary eyes, he could still see the black bags that hung under his eyes, and it appeared that he wasn't sleeping.

"How can I help you, Gildor" Mairne asked wearily, not in irritation but out of pure lack of energy, he was so worn out that only now had he realized his weak he was – a spirit never feels tired or drained, they feel absolutely normal, they feel just as fresh and energetic as you are when you are in the real world – he knew that if he didn't sleep tonight he wouldn't last the next day.

"Just checking up on you, did I disturb you?"

"No, I was just meditating" came; another tired response, Gildor nodded in acceptance of the answer, though he knew that the shaman was doing more than what he claimed.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you; I just want to make sure that you are prepared from tomorrow"

"Yes, we can pass through most of the canyon tomorrow and then if we move through the night we can reach the village by dawn, maybe even before it we move quickly enough" stated Mairne

"Good, get some rest Mairne, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow." Said Gildor, turning on his heels and walking away, leaving the shaman alone, seeing no other reason to remain in the waking world; Mairne slowly crept to sleep. Soon his vision darkened and his was sound asleep.

The next morning was uneventful, Gildor roused himself from his sleep early, just as the rays of the sun began to brighten the coming day, lifting himself from the small stone he had rested himself against he stretched and unkinked his stiff joint. Turning he noticed all his soldiers were still sleeping soundly on their own perches, either leaning against it or trying to rest their heads against the hard stone thinking it some sort of pillow, he turned to see his second leaning against the Cliffside with his sword drawn and resting against his shoulder. Gildor had never seen Medlichen sleep with his weapon drawn in such a manner, and then he turned to see that he was facing towards the Shaman, sighing in exasperation at his subordinate's prejudice he moved to their supplies and searched for anything he can have for a meal.

Shifting quietly through the bag he found a few rations, he knew time was of the essence and because of that they didn't have real time to gather any supplies, he grimaced when he noticed these ones were the bland tasting ones. It couldn't be helped he suppose, taking a seat near the end of the cliff he looked down over the orc camps below and slowly ate his rations, he finished his meal in a twenty minutes and waited another hour before the others started to rouse themselves. First was his second, then slowly the other began to rouse themselves from their slumber, groaning and grunting as they stretched and flexed their muscles and cracked their stiff bones.

Soon enough they were all up and having their early morning meal – which was simply eating their rations – but the Shaman had not awakened, Gildor turned to the Tauren and saw him lying against a large stone, his arms crossed over his chest and his head drooping forward. Gildor was about to get to his feet and go and wake the sleeping beast, but he was beaten to it, Medlichen has gotten to his feet sooner and was already halfway to him, and his sword grasped tightly in his hand. Gildor's eyes widened when he saw the sword and his seconds quick pace, he quickly jumped to his feet and made for the elf, by then Medlichen was already in front of the Tauren, his sword pointing towards him but not taking any other action.

When Medlichen was about to call for the Shaman to wake he was shocked to see his weapon was seized, the Shaman wrapped his massive gauntleted hands around the blade of his sword and kept it immobile, the elf didn't even see him move. He tried to pry his weapon free but Mairne held onto it firmly, he then noticed only then the Shaman's head was lifting and his eyes creaking open slightly, Mairne regarded the elf in front of him with critical eyes, taking into account he had his weapon pointed at him. But he knew he wasn't planning on using it, he was still fuming about yesterday's little lesson, he was disappointed that his words had not gotten through his skull, it would seem like another lesson would in order but he caught sight of Gildor in his peripheral vision.

"Gildor" said Mairne, his voice plain "Would you mind telling me why your lieutenant is pointing his weapon at me?"

Gildor was far from amused by the current situation Medlichen was in, he had enough of his behavior, it was causing trouble with his men and it was definitely causing trouble with the Shaman, and he couldn't afford to lose an ally in such a dire situation. He closed the gap between the Tauren and Elf and his steely gaze landed on the latter, who was now seeing the folly of his actions and cast his gaze away from his senior, but Gildor would have none of that. Grasping hold of the elf's collar he pulled him away from Mairne, losing his sword to the Tauren's stronger grip, and thrown to the ground, to say Medlichen was surprised was an understatement. He looked up at his commander and could see nothing but disappointment and ire disfiguring his features, he wanted to look away but he was addressed by his superior in a tone that matched his current expression.

"How many times have I told you?" he started, his tone dripping with annoyance, he shook his downcast head slowly, concealing his pointed stare that would have been boring through Medlichen. "Do. Not. Antagonize Him."

He addressed the elf lying sprawled on the ground as he was a child, berating him like he had done something only a delinquent would do, it had the intended effect as the one he was addressing had a guilty look on his face.

"I have had enough of you bigotry, you are a soldier, no, better yet; you're a ranger, that means you should have better control over yourself and not act like some damned fool." Medlichen tried to speak but was silence when Gildor continued "But here I find you threatening the very man who had pledge to help us, the same one who saved eight innocent live yesterday, who now helps us navigate through this pass to save more, and you think you can get away with such a thing. Tell me Medlichen, where is your honor?"

Those words hit him with the force of a cave troll's hammer; he was rendered mute from the question that left his superiors mouth, Gildor was asking him of honor, Medlichen couldn't understand how he thought he was without honor. He was a great warrior, he defended the innocent from evil around every corner they hid behind and every crevice they called home, he has done more for the people of middle earth than an entire army of soldiers have for their own country. How could he doubt he had any honor, he slew monster and evil creatures wherever they sprung from, he would kill those inhuman monsters because that is what they were not: human, and there lay in the problem.

He did not see it at first, the reason behind his actions towards the shaman were because of a simple baseline fact, he was not human, true humans, elves, hobbits, dwarves are different species but they all share a common semblance to one another. That is why they are never seen in a negative light – aside from the dwarves arrogant behavior – and it is because of that he had automatically assumed that all creatures that stray away from the norm are nothing but mindless beasts, he knew the Shaman wasn't a fool or mindless beast that killed for pleasure. He remembered the speech he gave to the men and he saw the way he had formed an accord with Gildor, who was not the type to simply put his trust into someone easily let alone someone who wasn't part of the norm.

He lay there for a few minutes contemplating his words, trying to think of what to say, he couldn't think of anything that would give reason behind his actions, he knew he was in the fault and he had nothing to back up his actions. His only reply was the closing of his eyes and his neck going slack so that his head could connect with the ground with a dull thud, he had relented, Gildor seeing this knew his words had hit the mark and he turned away from the downed ranger and to the others.

"Get your gear together we depart immediately" he barked to the warriors who were watching the scene before then, when the orders reached their ears they were on their feet scurrying around gathering their equipment to leave.

Mairne had gotten to his feet and taken a small apple out of his bag and plopped it into his mouth and chewed the entire fruit in a few chomps before swallowing it whole, he turned to Gildor for a moment before turning down towards their path and walking off. But he had seen the look in the Shaman's eyes, he was impressed with his words, he had forced one of his soldiers to have an epiphany on his bigoted attitude towards Mairne, something that was firmly engraved in his mind. Gildor was surprised as how well his words had worked, he did not expect them to reach Medlichen so easily, and he knew that the elf had a deep hatred for the orcs as well as many other abnormal creatures that roam the world. To think his words had put him on the path to changing his narrow minded view on Mairne, true he had some right to mistrust him, he was an unknown to them, and even Gildor didn't know all the details of the Shaman's powers or origins.

Taking a deep breath he composed himself and went to get his bow and quiver, he attached his quiver to his back and slid his bow over his shoulder, as he did he saw Medlichen was busy retrieving his own equipment. He couldn't see his face behind his long hair that shielded his from the side, but the slowness of his movements was something he caught immediately, he was moving almost deliberately slow, like he was so deep in thought he was blocking out the world around him. As he straightened up to walk away Gildor looked upon the elf's face, he could not see the angry or ashamed expression but one of contemplation; he was still thinking about the elven nobles words. Gildor smiled to himself as Medlichen walked past him, almost as if he had not seen him there, it looked like he hadn't lost his touch, he gave one last look over the orc camp before jogging off to the front of the group to lead them through the pass.

* * *

For the better part of the day they travelled along the narrow Cliffside, avoiding the orc camps with impunity, occasionally destroying small outposts that had been set up along the precipice. But now they were nearing the end of the easy road, soon they would be forced to leave the safe bluffs that hid them from the sights of the orcs and travel through the narrow passes below, and if they were not careful they would not make it out alive.

Below them was a wide pass that lead into a large open area, with the low light of the sun setting in the west and their current vantage point they could see dozens of orcs and goblins roam the area before them, not as many as they had seen when they first entered the pass but still enough to warrant cautiousness. But the main difficulty they were facing was the fact there was an orc camp set up right in the middle of the narrow passageway into the expanse, they could make out at least twenty orcs in the camp, all doing whatever they can to stem off the boredom that seemed to have taken hold of them like a plague.

"This is where our job gets difficult" muttered Gildor; beside him was Medlichen and Mairne, standing to his left and right respectively.

"It could have been worse, we may have reached this point without the Shaman's aid" said Medlichen, although it was stated more matter-of-factly rather than respectfully, although his attitude to the shaman had changed there was still some issues that could only be worked out over time.

"Even so, this area will be difficult to pass, there is little cover down there, it would be like walking up to the gates of Mordor trying to find a way inside, it's unlikely we will come out of this without being spotted." Grimaced Gildor, turning toward the two he continued "Any suggestions on how this can be carried out?"

"No matter what we do, we are going to have to pass that orc camp just below us, there is no other way, if we go through the hills we will lose time, and if we back track to look for another path we will only lose more. If we are spotted by them then we are going to have to either make a run for it or fight them off" said Mairne, his eyes scanning the area beneath them as well as they area where they intend to go.

Gildor agreed with his assessment, he knew they couldn't remain incognito for long down there, they would definitely be seen, and once that happens they would have an army of orcs bearing down on them. But the worst part is that even if they were able to escape through the camps they would be pursued, likely being run down as they tried to get out of the pass of followed to Trestlebridge, either scenario would end badly for them.

"Can we remove the camp without the other orcs noticing?" queried Medlichen

"Unlikely, but there is very little we can do, we should try to remove them, if the worst come to I can try and hold them off as long as I can while you make your way to the village" said Mairne

"We aren't going to leave you behind to die to these savages" stated Gildor firmly, earning him an amused chuckle from Mairne

"Who said I was going to die? I intend to wipe them out" he replied his amusement carrying in his stiff voice.

"I have no doubt about that, but still the thought is one I do not take lightly" said Gildor, before turning back to the camp and giving it another look over before rising from his knee "Alright, let's get the men together, we don't have time to waste."

* * *

Slowly sliding down the slopes towards the camp – making sure they made no noise as they descended – they observed the movements of the orcs below to plan the perfect moment to land and conceal themselves. In a few moments five soft thuds connected with the ground, so soft were they one wouldn't be able to hear it over a pin hitting the floor, they shot off and hit behind whatever they could to avoid being seen. Peaking around the rock Gildor peered into the camp, he saw eight orcs still awake, most of the others were sleeping against rocks or under small makeshift tents, from what he could tell killing them should be moderately easy.

With a few hand gestures he gave orders to his troops, even though the dark the elves had better eyes sight than most allowing them to make out what their commander was silently ordering, with his plan complete each of his warriors took off to fulfill their role in the plan. Gildor crept away from his cover and slowly moved towards the nearest solitary orc, his footsteps making no sound and his dagger was released from his sheath in a similar manner, he closed up behind the foul beast and readied his dagger. Taking one last look around he noticed no prying eyes, he tensed reached forward and smothered the orcs mouth – and before the orc could even begin to understand what was happening - he drove his dagger into the side of his neck down to his spine, killing the orc instantly. He pulled the now dead orc's body away and hid it from view, as he was doing this he noticed two of his men doing the same to their own target, he laid the orc down on the cold hard ground and, with his fellow assassins, moved towards their next targets.

He looked over to see five orcs sitting around a camp fire chatting to one another; they obviously had not noticed their comrade's abrupt disappearance, he could hear them speaking about 'how boring it is in that canyon' and 'how they want to get some action' in their irritatingly hoarse voice. He could see his men all in different positions around the five sitting near the fire pit, their dagger drawn and their readiness to use them very easy to see, raising his hand above his head while gripping his dagger more tightly he prepared to give the order.

He glanced at the orcs and waited for the more opportune time to strike, it would take two seconds to reach them, half a second to cover their mouths and another half to drive their blades into their necks, then the orcs burst out into laughter. Some leaned their head back and bellowed loud and raw while other leaned forward and smacked their knee, this was it, as soon as they started he gave the command, they all rushed forward towards the orcs, cover the distance between their targets quickly. As one they latched their hands over their mouths and drove their daggers into their necks, all died within millisecond of one another, no sound escaped their throats only the quiet noise of cold steel passing through flesh.

He laid the bodies on the ground and turned to the sleeping orcs – which were still asleep considering the uproar from their fellow ilk only a moment ago – and with a motion of his hand he ordered his men to work; one by one they dispatched the sleeping beasts, so quickly they died in without being awakened. He moved back to the cliff side and with a wave, that only a nocturnal creature could see, motioned something to approached, in a moment the sound of feet sliding down the slope of the cliff could be heard, but only after a few seconds could the noises be paired with those who were making it. Coming down towards him were the rest of his soldiers as well as the Shaman, who seemed to surf down the side of the slope with great ease compared to the others, they all landed silently and approached Gildor, he kneeled down and they did the same.

"Alright, the camp has been cleared, now we move onto the next phase of the plan" started Gildor, he turned to see his fellow infiltrators returning, they kneeled down and listened to their lord "We will move through the pass and hang by the eastern wall, there is little presence there and it is closer to the ramp leading out of the valley, we have to be careful though…."

Mairne was forced to tune out of the elven lord plan, his attention had been forced away by Ignia, her voice was echoing in his mind.

"Shaman, do you feel it?" said the Baroness

"Yes, I do" he spoke in his mind, he had sensed something following them for the better part of the day, he couldn't help but shake the feeling he had felt a similar presence not too long ago "I cannot tell what it is, but it does feel familiar to me."

"I think it is watching us, I cannot be certain, whatever has corrupted this land is hindering my ability to sense It." said the Baroness, her already livid voice was more aggravated than normal, that was true, the corrupting had blocked out his connection the elements as well, he could only use them to a lesser degree in this chasm.

"Hmmm; we can do little about it now, hopefully whatever we are sensing is not a threat, we have enough trouble as it is with the orcs, the last thing we need is some sort of demon making our lives difficult." Slowly her presence drifted out of his mind, and he was able to refocus on the small meeting before him, Gildor had just finished and was standing up, sadly he had only heard pieces of the conversation during his conversation with Ignia.

They had started to make their way to the pass, Mairne followed closely behind them, Mairne took a small cover from of the orc tents and wrapped himself in it, the flames in his shoulders could be seen if they were not covered, and he silently asked Ignia to make sure the cloth is not ignited. With their plan ready they began their trek across the orc infested chasm before them, all the while from the safety of the spirit world was a being who watched them all closely, his eyes focused on the Shaman as he followed the shorter creature ahead of him.

* * *

**Western Nan Wathren Pass**

Slowly they crept through the night, taking seemingly random turns here and there, Gildor had claimed he had memorized the entire area and planned out a suitable route for them to take, but even that didn't settle his nervousness in this situation. He would rather trust the sight of one's own eyes than the one a person retain in their memories, for things can change as well as not all details can be remembered clearly.

Mairne could hear the heavy footed orcs moving nearby, he could tell it was them as his companions were very light on their feet, he knew some were within several meters of their group, some were even above their positions. This was bad, even if Gildor knew where he was going it didn't change the fact they were completely in the dark right now, if a single orc found them they would have their backs against the wall and with no way to fend them off, he reached for his hammer and waited for what would likely be the inevitable attack.

He was proven correct when he hear the distinct sound of arrows whistling through the air, Mairne had picked it up almost immediately and reaching forward with his free hand he pulled back the ranger in front of him, as he did three arrows passed where he was once standing. He muttered a thank you but Mairne was already focusing on the threats that were slowly advancing towards them, he could make only shades within the darkness.

Mairne cursed under his breath, they had no choice but to fight now but they would never be able to see the enemy until they were upon them, he slapped his hands together and began the call, he could feel the fire already begin to form in his hands. He blocked out the enemies shouts and advancing footsteps, focusing only on calling upon the flame, Gildor shouted orders to his rangers, who in turn readied themselves for what would likely be their last stand. Then in an instant the shaman roared '**Flame Shock!**' as soon as those words were uttered the word in front of the Shaman was engulfed in flames, and then the screams of blood and death was replaced with ones of pain and agony, the orcs ahead of him had been set in flames. They took off in multiple directions trying in desperation to douse the flames, but it was for not, the flames would remain until they were nothing but ash – Mairne was highly experience and his abilities were that much more powerful, therefore simpler spells he was able to alter and improve upon – Mairne turned to the shocked elves and shouted to them.

"Get into the centre and ready yourselves, we will be able to see them coming from now on." He didn't wait for them to reply or comply, he rushed forward, discarding his cloak and drawing his hammer and shield, Gildor looked on at the thirty meter in diameter area before them, it was lit by the corpses of over a dozen dead orcs. He knew that going into the light would be alerting the orcs to where they were, but he had little choice, they had been spotted and their only choice was to fight them off or be killed, giving the order he followed after the Shaman.

He stood in the middle of the lit area, chanting under his breath, he could see he was focusing intently on his call, the rangers all formed a circle around the Shaman, they may not know what he was doing but if it was anything good they had to keep him safe. Just as he finished the chant he slammed his fist into the earth, the ground cracked and a small tremor could be felt, he uttered the words under his breath '**Call of the Spirits: Sentry**' then from around the border of the lit area appeared eight small pillars like objects. Each one was a small wooden trunk like object with small wood wings on its sides and wood horns at its crown; each one glowed from within with an eerily purple glow.

The Shaman raised himself from his knee and retrieved his hammer, he looked off into the distance at nothing in particular, Gildor watched as he stood there completely immobile, he was about to ask him what he was doing when Mairne suddenly turned on his hooves and threw his hammer. It sailed through the air towards the darkness, looking as if it had been thrown at nothing, then as it neared the darkness an orc appeared and was immediately thrown back into the darkness of the night, when he disappeared Mairne's hammer flew back toward him.

"Sentry totems" Mairne said as he caught his hammer "They alert me to when an enemy is close, it allow me to sense their presence, it will be useful in dealing with these beast" he turned to the other ranger and with a low serious tone he told them "listen to my commands when I make then and follow them without hesitation."

They all nodded their head in acceptance – even Medlichen – and turned back to the darkness to watch for anymore attacker, they didn't have to wait long, emerging from the darkness in small numbers, brandishing sword and axes they charged in without any regard for their safety. Two fell before they lasted a second within the illuminated area; one fell by an arrow from Gildor and the other by the Shaman's flames, the rest fell to well placed arrows to their necks, heart and head, but as they fell more began to take their place. Coming in all directions the elves moved as fast as they could to remove the attacking orcs, sending arrow after arrow at the tactless animals, Mairne could see that their numbers were steadily increasing and he could also make out in the distance that more orcs were coming from the pass.

This was bad, their activity had alerted the enemy to their position and now they were going to be slaughtered, he may be powerful but an army was something he couldn't fight against, and with Ignia couldn't aid him fully, the Pauldrons were the only thing preventing her from being tainted by the corruption in the pass.

"We cannot stay here" he called out to Gildor, while sending his hammer to obliterate an approaching orc and sending a concussive force towards a tightly packed group "We need to retreat; if the orcs come through the pass we will be annihilated."

"I know" he shouted back, his arrow had been lodged into the throat if an orc and he had already drawn his next arrow and readied it "But were stuck here – he released the arrow, the shrill cry of a goblin signaled that his target had been hit – we can't see where the enemy is, or where to go right now."

"You said you memorized this entire area and then planned the route from that" called out Mairne, his hammer back in hand and directing a Lightning bolt towards an orc.

"True" started Gildor, having taken down three orcs in the last few moments and moving onto his forth "But I have no idea where that path is in relation to where we are now."

"Perfect" muttered Mairne, as his lightning bolt killed six orcs in quick succession of one another, he turned to his left and felt the presence of at least twenty separate creatures approaching, gritting his teeth in annoyance, he gathered his elemental power into his weapon, wind and lightning crackled around his hammer and with a mighty throw he hurled it towards the approaching orcs. As soon as they appeared the hammer was already upon them, it shot at them like a bullet from a rifle, energy crackling around the head of the hammer and looking as if it was about to explode, when the hammer connected with the first orc's head there was a moment where the energy simply vanished from view. Then in the next a massive pillar of lightning erupted from the hammer and shot up towards the sky, all the energy that was held within the hammer had been released and discharged to whatever was close by, when the lightning dispersed and his hammer returned to him he saw nothing but scorched earth, there wasn't even a single shred of them left.

He turned to see that there were no more orcs entering the clearing, he could sense some hiding in the darkness, most likely his show of force had made them worried, good it would give them time to try and escape. But before they could there was a small tremor that passed through the entire region, for a moment there was silence, then another appeared, stronger and louder than the first, as it began to increase Mairne felt it, the presence from before, something was coming.

He looked to the pass and saw the two cliffs faces crack and breaks apart, rocks began to fall away from the face and crack into the pass below, crushing any unfortunate orc beneath the heavy stone, the quake did not stop there, soon the entire area was assaulted. Fissures began to form across the landscape and the area was being uprooted in its place, orcs and goblins fell into deep dark pits in the earth, Mairne and the ranger struggled to keep their footing, whatever was happening was tearing the place apart and the presence he felt was slowly approaching.

'What is this?' he though, he sensed something like this before, but it was different, that difference he had noticed before however, it was something familiar but it was different from what was usually the norm. 'What am I missing?'

He looked to his left and saw the earth shift up to a forty five degree angle, sliding the orcs down into the newly formed figure, the place was being torn apart, it was like something was trying to force its way here, like there some form of summoning going on right now. He could tell it wasn't a demon or another person, it was completely different from that, this was something he felt before, but not, it was so confusing he couldn't wrap his head around it, he glanced to the right and saw a pillar of earth shoot up from the ground at a slightly bent angle, it reminded him of Blade's Edge in Draenor, 'Draenor? Draenor! that was where he felt this before, when he was in Nagrand.

When he met with the Elemental's at the Throne of the Elements, he remembered the unique feeling he received from them, they were different from the elementals he had worked with on Azeroth they has their own unique energy about them. That was what he was feeling now, this wasn't some sort of creature or magical user; it was an elemental who was trying to enter the mortal plane from this world elemental one, from what he could tell its summoning is doing some damage. A very large fissure appeared ahead of them, easily larger than any other that had formed, and with its creation the quake began to subside, slowly Mairne approached the opening and as he did something shot up out of the hole, not deterred by its sudden appearance or the cry of alarm from those behind him he marched forward. It slammed down to his left, he glanced at it and could see a thick three finger hand made of stone grasping at the earth, then another came up from the hole, it latched on to the ground dug its fingers into the earth for leverage.

Slowly the mighty stone limbs began to pull, soon the silhouette of a very large creature began to take shape, its thick massive arms lifted its even bulkier body out of the cavern, and soon it was standing near the edge of the fissure looking over the field before it. Mairne studied the creature before him, it appeared like most elementals but this one took on a more animal characteristic, it appeared to have a large and broad upper body – wide shoulders and thick arms, which were being used as supports to keep its immensely disproportionate body upright, while it had small squat legs attached, the main feature was its head had bits of grass and moss covering its scalp and running down its side as if it was hair – making it very dangerous if it attacked.

It looked down towards the group in front of it, taking only a sparing glance towards the shocked elves before turning towards the shaman; he studied the creature before it for a short while, before he slowly leaned forward so its head was almost face to face with the Shaman. It looked down at it and studied it for a moment before it spoke.

"Fusa creaturae similes estis, sed non es, quid tibi est?" Its voice was that of gravel and grinding stone, Mairne did not flinch away when it spoke and he stared up into its eyes. 'Terran' he thought, the native language of the earth elementals, he had not spoken it in many years.

"Quaerenda per terram istam ut se ad" said Mairne, his spoke clearly and firmly with his word – when speaking with certain elemental and using their language you must also take on their accents, for instance when speaking with an earth elemental you must be firm and have a strong voice, while with a water elemental you must speak clearly and with the emotion that matches your words, as with fire you must appear strong and passionate with every word, and air elementals speak in a calm rational tone and only use anger when they are in turn angered – behind him his companions were giving him completely flabbergasted looks, he was actually speaking with the thing before them.

"You have told me why you have come" it said, its voice like thunder "But not what you are"

"I am Mairne Ragetotem, High Shaman of the Earthen Ring" Mairne stated

"Shaman?" stated the earth elemental, surprised by the words "You kind have long been lost to this world, destroyed by Morgoth in the War of Wrath, how have your returned, you are not one of those created by the All Father."

"I am not of this world, I come from another; it is called Azeroth"

"I have not heard of such a place, but I know you speak the truth, for you did not come here alone"

"No, I do not know how many of us are here, but I will find them and we will return him"

"I do not speak for your mortal companions; I speak for the one who hides; the one who cowers on your shoulders"

In an instant the flames emerged from the pauldrons, shooting up into the sky, it condensed together and in a moment later they spiraled to the ground in the form of a woman, her skin was that of liquid fire and her hair was an inferno or red and orange. She looked up at the earth elemental before her and spoke in her own tone, heated and blazing.

"You dare insult me, I fear nothing; I hide from nothing!" the air around her became blistering hot and the earth beneath her began to crack and turn to ash.

"So it is one of your ilk that I sensed, strange, yours have not set foot in these lands since… since the dark lord's fall" Ignia bristled by the comment, the word 'ilk' was reserved for something low bred cur, she was not some animal, she would not take such insults while laying down. She didn't care about much of what he said, but the comment he made about her kind was something she did not like, she would teach this fool a lesson he would never forget.

But before she could even act on her anger she was stopped by the Shaman, a hand rested against her shoulder, she looked at the Shaman and stared at him not bothering to mast her fury, her anger was at its peak and she would not be denied an outlet for it. As she stared at him she was about to berate him, but when an flare passed by his check and burnt away his fur her eyes widened slightly, her memories returning to the time many years ago, she quickly reigned in her anger and doused her flames. She turned back to the earth elemental, which had a surprised look on his face, obviously her actions were just now where something she had not expected her to do, he probably though she would turn him to cinders.

"There are more important things to worry about then petty squabbles about rank and element" said Mairne, being a mediator between the two elementals, he looked up to the massive earth elemental "You know my name and that of the Baroness, but we know not your own."

"I am known as Stalag'nar, I was one of the Guardians of these Mountains, until darkness took hold of their souls, now they are gone; I am all that remains" his voice sounded solemn, but to those unfamiliar with the elemental would pass it off as their town sounded deeper than normal.

"The corruption, what has caused it?" asked Mairne

"These fleshy things, these orcs, have created an artifact, it corrupts this place, drive my kind away; it must be destroyed."

"Mairne" came the low careful voice of Gildor, Mairne turned to the elf to see him trying to keep his composure in the presence of the two elemental's before him "We cannot help him, we need to get to Trestlebridge, if we don't all this will be for nothing"

Mairne did not reply, he turned back to Stalag'nar and stared at him for a moment, before he slammed his fist against his chest and said to him with a firm and resolute voice.

"I will return to these mountains, once the orcs that threaten the innocent have been destroyed, and I will rid it of the evil that taints it, as well as those who brought it here."

The earth giant studies the Shaman before it, he appraised his words, he had not seen a seen one who can bend the element to his will in a great many ages, but this one he is different from them, where they would control a flame and use it to their own needs, he did not. He did not subjugate the flame, he had formed a unique bond with it, one other than mindless destruction or chaos; he had earned its respect, and that was something he could respect about this shaman.

"Very well, I will await your return, go now and do what you must, I will prevent these beasts from passing" said Stalag'nar, he turned around and with a motion of his hand the fissure behind him closed, he began to slowly walk over towards the pass – the same on that had been sealed with the debris from the collapsed mountain – Mairne turned around to see Ignia standing there her eyes cast down.

He slowly approached her and stood in front of her, he could feel the unease that was washing off of her like the heat of a bonfire, she looked up at him and even though her eyes were mere imitations he could see her shame churning within. She cast her glance away from Mairne's eyes and to his left arm, now he understood her grief, all those years ago and she could still not come to forgive herself for what happened, she was definitely not like any other fire elemental he had the honor of knowing. He had known her since he was a calf, and he knew her more than she thought, and even though the wounds have healed the scars remain and the cause of those scar have never left Ignia, and it is because of that she feels shame where other elementals do not, her anger.

"Mairne…" she tried, but Mairne had already placed his hand on her shoulder, she looked up at him slightly surprised, he smiled at her.

"Tell me, how long have we been friends?" he asked her with a serene smile, she didn't answer for a time, still surprised by his action and his question, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"We have been friends for a long time Mairne, a very long time" she said, her voice less fierce and more controlled "Come, we have work to do, and you don't want to keep that thick head walking mountain of pebbles waiting to long."

She slowly released her humanoid form and disappeared into his Pauldrons, he chuckled to himself, she was always good company, he looked over to the assembled elves in front of him, who in turn were staring at him wide eyes and jaws gaping. He walked over to them slowly - and with a exhalation of breath - he snapped them from their gawking, they now noticed he was standing right before them, before awkwardly taking a few steps back and averting their eyes from the Shaman.

"We should continue on our way, this attack has delayed us" he stated calmly, to which Gildor nodded absentmindedly before turning and ushering his men behind him. They followed after their lord a few moments later, some still reeling from what they just saw, he knew they would have questions but he would save them for when he reach the village and maybe afterwards he would indulge them further.

They rushed to the pass leading out of Nan Wathren, their destination close.

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**It is time for you, the readers to decide the fate of Zul'kal, Shadow Hunter of the Darkspear Tribe, voting will commence as soon as you read this message and will finish when the next chapter is posted, so you have maybe two weeks to vote. Here are the choices:  
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**1: The elves that attacked Zul'kal capture him, he is alive and held in captivity.  
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**2: The elves murder Zul'kal and take his head (body, weapon, arrows, ect. as proof of his death) back home.**

**3. The elves attempt to kill Zul'kal, but instead put him in a death like state. Taking his 'corpse' back home, he regenerates over time and rejoins the party in a rightly foul mood.**

**4. The elves murder Zul'kal and take his body back home to study. While I don't believe it to be cannon, I have a theory that a Troll's body continues to regenerate for a time after death (At least until the point of decay is faster then the regeneration process. It explains why undead trolls seem to be in much better condition then the undead of other races.) So when the non local members of the fellowship arrive in Riverdale, Zul'kal should be in a condition in which he could be brought back from the dead by one of the handful of healers that the party is made up of.**

**please vote and make your discisions and with that I bid you all farewell for now.**


	12. Chapter 10: The Healer and the Avenger

**Hello all, Jimmy here with a new chapter of my epic series Lords of Warcraft  
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**But I am Also happy to tell you I have another story ready to be read by my adoring fans, United Against the Legion of Flames, a massive crossover that will engulf the entire universe in a war with the Burning Legion, its gonna be epicz man. (Go to my profile to see it, and read it and make sure you read the author notes they are important.)  
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**Anyway onto the reviews.  
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**ultima-owner - he kind of is, as a shaman it is his duty to lead, but sometimes even he must follow.  
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**Takaiteishu Naruto**** - Thank you for your Vote, Speaking of Naruto, planning on putting that in my new uploaded fic, and I need to know a good point in Naruto where the guys from wow can come in and start tearing the place up, swing by and tell me.  
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**great northern one**** - Thank your for your Vote, you want the Pally, well here you go, I hope you enjoy the epic sexiness that is about to ensue right after the sad emotional part.  
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**MaiaGen**** - Thank your for your Vote, will do.  
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**SoulVoid87 - Thank you for your Vote, No, no, no, true Mairne is a main in the current setting, but this is because he is part of a large story taking place right now, I will be focusing on all the characters and their individual journeys, but up till the time of the Council of Elrond it will focus on the three in Eridion.  
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**Gavoon**** - DON'T CALL ME THAT IN PUBLIC, oh when I get to that slave pit, your gonna be beggin me for mercy, *Crack* yeah *Crack* do you like that *Crack* oh this is gonna be fun *Crack*  
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**Leapinglemur**** - Thank you for your Vote, glad you like it, and don't worry he will, a shaman does not break his word.  
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**Soulfire72**** - Of course, would he be Varro if he didn't kill something for no apparent reason what-so-ever.  
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**Fallen Maiar - Thanks for the Vote.  
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**Kiue Jin**** - I love you mate, I truly do, you have given me a piece of information that I cant believe I did not pick up on in the first place. Liches, undead sorcerers that possess large amounts of magical power, and even when killed they can be brought back to life, with a Phylactery - a container for their souls, as long as it remains intact a lich can revive itself, this can be said for Sauron and for his Wraiths, who were each given a ring of power - you are giving me so many ideas, I can work out the details as I go but i think I have a genreal idea how to work it in and make it shine, thank you, keep them coming, and thanks for the vote.  
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**Bondo sheetmetal**** - Thanks for the Vote, wow, those D&D trolls are hard to put down, but I dont think Zul'kal's arm is going to be regenrating into another Zul'kal, then there would be need of a challenge, THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE! (All rights reserved to the owner of Highlanders).**

**Also, I am extending the poll for a few more chapters, on the one before everything takes place I will halt the poll. Also on another note I am starting a different poll alongside this one:**

**Pairings: Hah this will be a good laugh, Give me suggestions, don't worry there is no such thing as a stupid answer, just a wrong one, a completely, utterly wrong answer, but it will be fun to see what you all think. So send me your ideas on who should end up with who, and please try to be serious, its more funnier for the rest of us that way. LOL, I am kind of nutty.  
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**On with the story, and all that jazz (If you want Jazz, type in YouTube: EPIC SAX GUY, you wont be disappointed.)  
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**Chapter 10: The Healer Pain and the Avenger Mercy  
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**Osgiliath**

Sefri stood before the man that had brought her to this ruined city, Faramir - Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien, Prince of Ithilien, and provisional Captain of the White Tower – she looked into his deep ocean blue eyes and tried to discern what he intended to do, her fate rested solely in his hands. Her own gaze piercing through mid-thirties man's own, she knew he was contemplating what to do with her, when she arrived a few minutes ago she saw one of the rangers speak with him quietly, she could see his surprise to what he was being told. It was obvious that these people did not have access to magical gifts or artifacts, they were mundane, they knew of magic but did not possess it in any form it would seem, and their medical skills were basic to say the least.

They held their gazed upon one another for a few more minutes before Faramir finely spoke.

"I would like to know what you are?" asked the Ranger Captain, his voice betraying no emotion, yet Sefri could see the glint in his eyes that showed he was uneasy, she wondered for a moment on what she could tell him. She could go into great detail about her origins and her world, but that would seem completely far-fetched and unbelievable, or she could lie and try to make some story up that she was from a very far away land, but if she slipped up it would cause tension between them, which was very strained as it was. But also the fact she was a priestess of the Church made it impossible for her to lie, though she could do it for the sake of protecting the innocent, she could not lie to someone for no good reason, and fabricating an entire different life was prohibited as much as it was difficult to fabricate.

"I do not know what you mean my lord, I am a simple Dwarven Priestess" she replied, hiding her apprehension with a believable serene smile, but the Prince of Gondor did not believe her claim. He may not have seen any signs of her lying, he was skilled ranger: able to pick up on the smallest of details, it was so acute that he could almost sense the worry wash off of her like an expensive perfume.

"You say you are a priest" he stated rather than questioned, his gaze was unblinking as he took in every single movement and action she took after he spoke "I have not known of any dwarves that had the patience, let alone the self-discipline to worship the gods, but here you are standing before me."

The skepticism in his voice was not missed by anyone, if there were any signs that Sefri was insulted by his comments she did not show it, instead of replying she remained silent and watched the ranger rise from his seat and approached the Dwarven Priestess.

"But I know for a fact that dwarves do not practice such formal worship, they have long lost their way; they care more about gold and treasures than of honoring their gods." He circled the Dwarven woman, treating her like she was some cornered animal ready to be pounced upon when it was at its weakest. "So tell me, who are you really?"

He stepped in front of her and leaned down to look into her eyes, she had lost her smile and pleasant features with more plain ones, he could see some turmoil brewing inside of her that threatened to burst forth but she held herself in check.

"I am Sefri Anvilheart, I am a Priestess of the Light" she said, letting out a relieving sign, she had obviously been struggling not to answer.

"The Light? Who is this 'light'?" queried Faramir.

"The Light is not a person, it is a philosophy, it is a teaching that allows someone to seek perfection within themselves; it allows you to gain spiritual awareness and guidance. The Holy Light teaches that there is a connection between oneself and the universe. This connection manifests as what we feel through both in sense and emotion. When a person is moved, whether it be something breathtaking or a feeling of love for another, that emotion is what connects him to the universe. Experiencing these emotions ensures that he exists, as something within him felt the emotions or processed the sensual awareness. Because he exists, so must the universe that gave him that feeling. From there, he can act upon the universe, causing more changes to create feeling in others. Thus, the followers of the Light seek to make the world a better place by being true to their own emotions." She answered; it was the simplest way she could describe the light, to give any less would be almost impossible, the only other way to experience it would to feel it from a user of the light.

To her surprise her words were met with a cold mirth from the Ranger Captain, it was then that her irritation could be seen, she looked up at him and saw the amused smile that graced his features, and he thought it was amusing. True some people were a bit disbelieving of the light back in her world, but they didn't follow it for many reasons, one being because they follow a different path of worship or were part of the dark, but they only denounced it because they had never experienced it before, but never has she met someone who would mock her faith, save for those she fought against in the cult of the damned.

"What rubbish is this, a faith created out of love and kindness, what kind of fool do you take me for, that isn't a faith, it is a fool's fantasy" he said, not bothering to hide his condescension for her faith "But you beliefs are not what concern me, I want to know what you are, you healed over a hundred of my men, singlehandedly, and from what I have heard, with Magic."

"I want to know what you are, and how you did it, there are few people in the world that could do such a thing as you did, and even fewer to the levels such as yours. So tell me the truth; who are you and what are you." pressed Faramir, Sefri looked up at him trying to decide if she should tell him the truth or not, he may not respect her race or her beliefs, but she would not allow him to disrespect the teachings of the light.

"You wish to know who I am. What I am? Words won't help me here, your arrogance and single-mindedness makes that impossible." She stated plainly, not bothering to look up to see his angered expression. "So I have no choice." She moved her palm quickly towards his chest and in an instant the room was enveloped in light; the occupants of the room were blinded by the display. Madril and his men reached for their sword but did not draw them, still unable to see what was happening before them, they could make out only black forms within the light but apart from that they could not see what was transpiring within.

But then the light died down, their vision trying to adjust the sudden decrease in illumination, when their eyes finally adjusted they saw Sefri with her hand placed on the Captain's chest, and an astonished Gondorian Prince, she removed her hand and took a step back and examined the man before her.

He didn't know how to describe it, this feeling he had; it was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt, he could not possibly describe it in the words that he knew, every fiber of his being was exposed to bliss and he felt happy. He had not known such an overwhelming feeling since he was a child, not since he remembered his late mother, he could remember the love he felt from her when he was only five years of age, those were some of the happiest times in his life. He looked down at the Dwarven woman before him he couldn't help but feel ashamed for his words, when he heard from Damrod about what she had done and how the men were acting he assumed she was enchanting them with her magic. But when she touched him and this power, this light, passed through his form all his worry and fear was lifted, was this the light she spoke of, the feeling of nothing but kindness and love, he had forgotten the reason he had doubted it before, it was so perfect, so beautiful.

"Captain" Faramir turned to Madril, who stood off from the side, his hand wrapped around his drawn sword and ready to use it, he knew that the actions carried out by the Dwarven priestess would seem antagonistic but he knew otherwise.

"Hold" he commanded, before he turned back to the woman who showed him what the light was. "You may have gifted me with the touch of the light, but that still does not change anything, I still need to know who you are."

"That is… acceptable, I suppose" she replied, true she could have answered his questioning from the beginning but with the way acted, it would be difficult to get him to even believe one word she said without him remarking on it, but now that he had a clear head and an open mind he could listen to her. "I am not like the dwarves that you know; I come from another place, far across the greater dark, a place called Azeroth."

"Azeroth?" murmured Faramir

"It was the name that our creators gave it, the Titans" she said, earning herself a surprised look from the Ranger Captain.

"Is that what you call the Valar" asked Faramir

"I do not think you fully understand where I am coming from my lord, when I said Azeroth, I did not mean another continent or country; I come from another world entirely."

She let those words sink in for a few minutes, taking in the shocked and incredulous expressions of those around her, she would have been disbelieving as well, if not for her own people history and that of several races she would never have believed such a thing. Her world was not the only one to exist in the cosmos; there were hundreds if not thousands that existed in the massive void that was the greater dark; she could not lie to them completely, it was part of their teaching that lying only darkened the universe where truth and goodness brought light.

"That's… a bit difficult to believe." said Faramir, even though he didn't believe it he was not openly disputing her claim, which was good, had he not been touched by the light he may have seen her as an insane dwarf not worth his time.

"Yes it is, but I tell the truth, this world is not my own." Said Sefri

"But how did you come here?"

She relayed her fight with a being known as Algalon the Observer, her battle that would result in the utter destruction of her world, she told him of one of his abilities that must have thrown her into Middle Earth. Faramir looked like he was trying to accept it but the others were less believing, Madril was the one who spoke up about this, and not to kindly either.

"You expect us to believe such nonsense." He asked angrily

"It is all I can ask of you." She replied patiently

"Your story is nothing but a fairy tales, other worlds, nonsense, you are just trying to mislead us" he replied bitterly "Hiding the truth of who you are."

"I'm not hiding anything from you." She replied

"Liar, I saw what you did to those men, how they acted, what did you do, why?" when he asked her she stiffened, the reason she had done it was not just out of her duty to the patient but also to herself, she was struggling to get a hold of herself and now that he had brought it up she was having some trouble hiding her emotions.

"I- I don't know what you mean… I wanted to help them, it was my duty as…" she never finished

"They are none of your concern, your sorcery has made them a pack of drooling idiots" he sneered "Why did you do it? So the orcs wouldn't have to deal with them later on" Sefri started to shake slightly, it wasn't noticed, while Madril continued his rant.

"Or are you trying to control them, make them your slaves" Sefri continued to shiver, her worry and fear growing, her reason for her actions slowly reaching the surface, she was not hearing his words completely, but she knew he was still questioning her motives.

"Why!" he shouted, he stood over the Dwarven woman leaning forward, to just be over her head "Why are you doing this?"

A lone tear rushed down her cheek, Madril was taken out of his anger quickly, and the others stared at the scene in astonishment, she was crying, now they could see she couldn't control her own body anymore. Her shaky legs gave out from under her and she fell to her knees, more tears began to flow from her eyes, Faramir was poised to catch her but he was so shocked by her teary wrenched face that he couldn't move.

"I couldn't take it" she said, her voice strained and whimpering, "I needed a diversion from it, I didn't want to face it."

Her tears flowed all the harder now; her shaky hands wrapped themselves around her shoulders.

"I couldn't face it, I'm so scared" she sobbed, she looked up at the ranger captain, her sorrowful face was hard for him to look upon and not feel pity "That my world may no longer exist."

Those word hit them all hard, her world no longer exists, they stared at her wide eyes, what was she talking about, what did she mean.

"Algalon was sent to see if our world deserved to be spared, he was going to destroy Azeroth, I don't know if I have a home to go back too." She hugged herself tighter and rocked back and forth, trying to imagine another pair of arms around her, to bring her comfort, to show she was not alone "I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be alone; I don't want to be alone."

She kept repeating the same words over and over again, like a sad mantra, they knew now what she meant, to lose one's home was terrible but to lose everything – your home, your friends, family, your entire world – that would destroy you, she didn't heal those men because she was obligated to, she did it so she didn't have to face her fears. Madril took a few steps back, his head downcast and features softened at the revelation that was revealed to him, now that he knew why she had done it he was now less inclined to question her further, Faramir could swear he saw some shame as he backed away from the crying dwarf.

Faramir approached the poor woman and kneeled down beside her, placing a comforting hand on her own, she looked up at him, her mantra stopped and her tear halting for the moment, for a moment she did nothing, then her face scrunched together and she pushed herself into his chest. She was grief stricken and she needed someone there to lean on, to face this pain alone was something she didn't deserve, if he could help alleviate it then he would try, for even he was susceptible to the pain of loss. He had lost his mother when he was only five years of age, she was the only one to take care of him when he was born, his father was estranged from him at his birth, he was born a weak frail child, one who did not deserve to live and she was the only one who cared for him during those early years.

But when she died, he had lost the only person that had cared for him, he felt so alone, his father had become colder towards him, but even though he had lost her there was someone else who helped me through it. His brother Boromir, after her death they grew much closer, they grew up together and drew strength from one another, they were the perfect brothers, no quarrels or sibling rivalries, he knew that he could not even begin to think his pain was on her level, but he understood the pain non-the-less. She cried for a few more minutes before she slowly stood herself back up and looked into the ranger captain's eyes, they were warm and understanding, though she had no reason to trust him or his men she was thankful that he offered her some comfort.

"Thank you" she said quietly, Faramir gave her a small sad smile.

"I do not claim to know what it is like to lose ones entire world, but I do know what it feels to be helpless and alone, I may not know how to send you to your world, but I will do all I can to see if it is possible." Reassured Faramir, he knew that there would be few in the world that could use magic, he would do what was right and make sure that this priestess is given the aid she deserves. She saved his men and showed him something divine, how could he not be in her debt, but he knew how she felt, he knew that feeling of loss, and he would be damned to let someone suffer a cruel fate such as that and not know if it is true.

"Captain!" the frantic cry from a soldier drew his attention, standing at the entrance to his tent was a panting ranger "Sir, the orcs are attacking, they cross the river near the northern banks and have taken the shorelines, more are coming!"

Within a moment he cast aside his warm and nurturing expression and took on a commanding presence, he turned to his second in command and fellow rangers, he motioned them to follow – they did so, as did Sefri close behind the seven rangers – he didn't look back as he gave his order.

"Madril, go to the northern part of the city, round up any survivors and scattered rangers and prevent them from getting any further into the city or escape into the country" he ordered, Madril nodded and took off, as he did he motioned two more rangers forward.

"I want you two to get the men from the western areas together, have the rangers meet up with the northern detachment and assault the orcs from a distance, draw them away from the shoreline, then when they are close cut the head off the snake." They nodded in unison, before he continued "Once they have been lured away, have the Gondor soldiers flank them from the south, cut them off from reinforcements, and make sure you destroy them before those ships arrive."

"You three." he gestured to the last three rangers "Gather your men as well as the doctors, you're going to be gathering the wounded and getting them off the field."

They nodded and just as they left, they were halted by some else.

"Make sure the doctors bring water and equipment as well, we may need to treat the patients in the field" they turned to see Sefri staring at them with a serious face "Do any of you have medical training?" two of them nodded "Good, take these" she threw them a wrapping of blue cloth, as soon as their fingers touched it they tingled, the healing magic imbued within the cloth making their entire bodies feel ecstatic.

"Frostweave cloth, imbued with healing magic, wrap it around the wound once, I don't have much left so use it for the most severely wounded, understood." She asked sternly, they nodded their head dumbly, before she smiled and let them go. "Good, now go, I will join you shortly to help with the wounded."

As they left she turned towards the ranger Captain, she could see the surprise written over his face.

"You're going to be helping us" he asked

"Yes, as a priest and member of the church of the Holy Light, it is my duty to help people, and I know your cause is just, for a prince to defend your home and country from these creatures is noble. Your actions remind me of someone who once did the same; I just hope that you do not make the same mistake he did all those years ago." She said before walking off, leaving Faramir alone, even though he was surprised by her actions he was grateful, her abilities would save more lives than they ever could, but the last part was something that he found had a great sense of foreboding.

He cast off her words meaning for now, he had a battle to win, turning toward the coast he grabbed his bow and quiver, slinging it over his shoulder and making sure his sword was firmly hastened to his hip, and took off towards the coast to aid in the soldiers attack against the orcs. This was the fifth attack on the city since he had left for Cair Andros, he had only left two weeks ago and there had been five separate battles waged for Osgiliath in his absence, this was not right, the orcs were never this persistent, not unless there was a massive battle in the works, and with Haradrim and Corsairs coming from the west and south it was likely so. He could hear the cries of both swords striking one another mixed in with ones from men and orc, he was close, he could already smell the blood, as he rounded on the bend he was forced to duck, lest he be decapitated by an orcs crude axe. He looked up at the orc that had its weapon imbedded in the stone wall beside him, with a defiant roar the orc discards its weapon and went for the ranger with its own hands, Faramir rolled to the side and as he returned to his footing he drew his sword. The orc ripped his weapon free and charged the Ranger Captain, Faramir watched the orc carefully and quickly he found an opening in his guard, Faramir rushed forward and as he reached to orc he dodged to the side as the axe veered towards his neck, he let his blade run along the beast exposed torso as he passed by unscathed.

The orc collapsed to its knees and let out a cry of pain as it grasped its wound, but Faramir did not allow the beast to whimper any longer, bringing up his sword he swung it down towards the orcs neck, severing its head from atop its shoulders. He regarded the dead orc for a moment as it fell, its head hitting the ground first, then its body, a spray of blood squirting out from its neck like a fountain, before he turned and rushed off toward the beach. As he ran deeper into the narrow corridors and streets of the fallen city the cries of warriors and the ring of steel clashing could now be seen as well as heard, he saw dozens of rangers and orcs fighting against one another. His warriors were fighting well, felling many orcs but they were outnumbered almost two to one, he charged into the fray to assist them, his sword piercing through the back of an orc attempting to finish off a wounded ranger, he pulled his blade free and shoved the dying orc aside. He grabbed hold of the wounded man and dragged him towards a small walled off area, he leaned him up against the wall and set off to keep fighting, as he turned he saw an orc charging him, before he could raise his sword to fend off the coming blow the orc was thrown off its feet by an arrow to the neck.

Turning he saw dozens of rangers on the roofs and walls of the ruined city, taking precise shots at the enemy below, saving soldiers from being attacked from behind and others from being finished off or killed. The rangers from the southern parts of the city had arrived and were now starting to reinforce the defenders, sadly there was little room for them to maneuver on top of those walls and buildings, and there was little architecture near the beach that gave them a height advantage. Soon the orcs were being killed in droves, a handful died every second, whether it be from the swords of the soldiers or the arrows of the rangers, orcs were dying, soon all that was left was a small patio full of orc corpses mingled in with their own dead.

"Move forward!" he ordered, he trudged through the field of dead towards the wide open area before them, there were more orcs in the city and they needed to be cleared out. "Do not let them take another step towards Minas Tirith!"

The soldiers cheered as they moved forward, their morale high knowing that their commander is in the field with them, their lord and captain leading their march, they entered a large courtyard close to the beach, one leading to the bridge that connected both shores of the Anduin to one another, and there a handful of warriors were fighting off dozens of orcs. They did not wait for an order they charged in, the fresh warriors relieved the exhausted as they fought on their last leg, Faramir cut down an orc as he moved in, slicing a deep gouge in its chest before bringing his sword down onto another's shoulder. He planted his foot on the orcs chest and pulled his sword free, its body fell back dead as he raised his sword to parry an incoming blow, swinging the other sword away from his own he drew his blade back and slashed at the orcs throat. It fell back clutching its windpipe that had been cut open, it gurgled for a few minutes before it finally died, Faramir turned towards the sound of a heavy smash and then the scream of a dying ranger.

In the middle of a circle of dead Gondorian soldiers and rangers stood a large orc, easily a head or two taller than the ranger captain, in its hands it held a large maul, which was a thick two meter wooden shaft with a large piece of deformed metal bolted to it. Faramir watched as the large orc swung his hammer at a charging soldier, the poor boy never stood a chance, the orc swung his massive maul at the silver armored warrior; he raised his shield to defend himself only for it to be torn apart along with his arm. But the orc hammer was just beginning it's butchery against its unfortunate victim, as soon as the orc had crushed the shield and the young Gondorian's arm it brought the hammer up, raising its above its head then bringing it down on top of the kneeling soldiers crown, completely pulverizing his skull with a shower of blood and gore. But even when the man was dead the orc was not done, pulling the hammer out from the crevice created between the corpses shoulder the weapon was pulled back once more swung at it in a wide arc and smashed into the dead soldiers chest, the body sailed across the patio and stopped just short of the Ranger Captain's feet, its chest piece having caved in on its owners body. It was a challenge to him personally, the orc knew who he was and he wanted the pleasure of killing the Prince of Gondor himself, he would get his wish.

Faramir gripped his sword that more tightly, he knew that going against this creature would be dangerous, it was larger and more stronger than he was, but strength and size didn't matter when you had speed and agility on your side. With that hammer he needed to have a few seconds to prepare to strike, and once the orc swung there was no way to control the movement of the weapon, once he had the opening he could finish the orc off with ease. For a moment there was no movement between the two fighters, they both were gauging one another to see which one would act first, it was Faramir who broke the stalling tedium and charged the hulking orc, his sword in a two handed grip and directed downward, ready to deliver a devastating upward swing.

The orc prepared his own attack, and brought back its hammer, it waited for the right time to strike and knew that his opponent was not a fool; he would try to find a way around his guard and strike when his hammer was swinging. But he was not as stupid as the others and knew when to pull his punches, gripping his hammer that much tighter he waited for his target to come into range, when he was only three meters away from him he swung his maul at the ranger.

Faramir saw the hammer move toward him, he was only two meters from the orc; he knew the hammer would strike him in the head if he kept up his pace, but he had other plans, as soon as the hammer was a mere two inches from his head he dropped into a crouch. The hammer sailed over without causing harm, missing him by only a few centimeters; had he been any slower he would be dead right now, quickly he rose up and did the same with his sword, swinging his blade up towards the defenseless orc. He felt his sword met... nothing, but he felt his gauntlet connect with something however, looking up he saw the orc had not lost his balance or turned with his hammer when it was swung, instead it was still facing him and his hammer was held deftly in its left hand. He looked to his sword to find it being blocked by the orcs boot, his metal boot planted Faramir's gauntlets, stopping his sword from delivering a fatal blow, he then looked up to see the snarling orc above him.

The orc tossed his arms and blade aside with his boot, losing his balance the ranger fell to his hands and knees, he was only there for a moment when a large hand grabbed the back of his neck and threw him into the air and onto his back. The wind was knocked out of him when he landed and he struggled to sit up, his back burnt with momentary pain, he looked up to see the orc had his hammer raised and ready to deliver it to the ranger captain's head. Rolling out of the way, the maul impacted the ground where his head resided only moments ago, the stone paver splintered and cracked under the force of the strike, he kept rolling away from the orc, trying to make as much distance from the beast as he could. When he finally came to a stop, his wet and muddy amour was heavy and his face was covered in mud, he had to wipe the mud from his eyes to see the next incoming attack, the orc's foot, turning to the side just in time to avoid the attack he then spun back and punched the orc in the side of the knee.

The orc buckled to its knees, with the hammer's weight bringing it down to its hands, rotating on his back Faramir delivered a quick kick to the orc's head, dazing the lumbering beast, before he lifted himself up and went for his sword. The orc was starting to rise; Faramir has reclaimed his sword and turned on the now risen orc, taking his only chance the Ranger Captain charged, intent on impaling the orc before he could raise his weapon. Faramir shot his blade forward, his tip moving towards the beasts exposed chest, but the orc twisted around the blow, earning himself only a laceration over the right side of his chest, and then wrapped his hand around Faramir's throat. Cursing to himself Faramir tried to free himself from the orcs murderous grip, but the monster was too strong for him, he tried to raise his sword but his hand was caught by the orcs other hand, while the one around his throat tightened. Faramir's vision started to become blurred and unfocused, he was losing consciousness, his sword started to become slack in his hand, he could feel his hand tremble as he tried desperately to keep the grip on his weapon from going limp.

He could feel his lungs begging for air, he wouldn't last much longer; as his vision was finally enveloped by darkness he felt the sweet relief of air in his lungs and the pain of hitting the ground with a heavy thud. His vision began to restore itself and his body, which did not respond to his command as quickly as he wished them to, started to have their feeling return, he arched himself forward and was able to see the orc clawing at his back as if trying to remove something. When the orc turned Faramir saw three arrows lodged in the beasts back – two just below its right shoulder and one in the left shoulder – Faramir had been saved by the well placed shots of three rangers, but even with three arrows in its back it would still not go down, Faramir looked to his sword and found it still in his hand.

Rising to his feet quickly he gripped his sword in both his hands, trying to keep his blade steady in his shaking hands, with a roar he charged forward, his blade sinking into the orcs chest, the orc was run through to the hilt. The orc stood immobile for a few moments, complete shock forming over its pained expression, before it collapsed to its knees and slowly slid off the Captain's blade, looking around Faramir saw dozens of fallen orcs and men. He looked around and saw more were dying as well, every second someone fell, whether it is an orc or a human they fell, he saw from across the patio the orcs were being cut off by reinforcements, the orcs were boxed in, all that was required now was someone to eliminate those that remained and move on to the stragglers at the beach.

"Form up" Faramir commanded, almost immediately twenty rangers gathered around him, all still ready to fight and prepared for any attack. "Fight together; and don't get separated!"

As one the soldiers moved through the patio killing orc by the dozens in matter of seconds, they were winning this battle, but for how long remained the question, they have fighting for this city for years now, and it has weathered many orc attacks. But when he looked upon the field before him, he saw the bodies of hundreds of orcs sprawled across the dirt and mud, this was not going to be a simple battle, the orcs had come in force and they would not be pushed back easily. Turning he sunk his sword into the shoulder of an approaching orc, he kicked it off of his blade before turning towards another, he charged forward with a roar, intent of keeping Gondor's borders secure

* * *

**Rohan, Village in Westemnet**

Freda watched outside her living room window, her gaze cast upon the town's square, she could see dozens of people there all huddled together, she recognized many as those as her fellow villagers and some of her friends, but there were others with them. Though she didn't recognize them based on their faces she did know them from their cloths, shaggy fur rags that were crudely stitched together, they were what her mother had warned her about, feral men who lived in the hills and were hated enemies of the people of Rohan, the Wildmen of Dunlending.

They had arrived a few minutes ago and had started to raid the town, even though there were a dozen of them, the entire village was at their mercy, breaking into houses and stealing the peoples treasures and belongings. She could see many being forced to their knees and held captive by the Wildmen, there were none that could stand up to them, and those that tried had been beaten down in an instant, her mother was cowering with the rest along with her brother. She could do nothing but watch in abject horror as the Wildmen hold them prisoner in their own village while they broke in one house after another, then the sound of wood breaking and a loud crash drew her attention away from the spectacle outside.

Turning to her left she saw the house door had been kicked open, she saw two Wildmen at the door, she leapt away from the window and hid under the table, she looked to see their legs carrying them around the house. The sound of furniture being moved and thrown aside overshadowed all other noises, they were looking for treasure, which they did not have, but Freda cast her gaze towards the cupboard that contained the 'angel's' amour and weapon. She could remember the golden armor and sword; it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life, she had never seen a warrior wear such a grand suit of armor, not even the son of the king wore such elegant protection. She watched as one approached the cupboard his hands forcing the doors open, she heard his hollow laugh as he called over his friend; they stared at the finely crafted chest piece that sat in the closet along with a long pair of greaves and gauntlets.

They gazed for a moment before their eyes turned onto the single weapon inside leaning against the cupboards side, a large two handed golden sword, their grins widened at the sight of the blade, one reached for it and grasped it. He pulled it from the confines of the dusty wooden closet and held it in his hands; even though it appeared to be made of gold it was much lighter than expected and had an unparalleled edge, it looked so sharp that it could possibly cleave an anvil in two. As he examined the sword he heard something shuffling under the nearby table, slowly he advanced on the table, he stopped for a moment to listen; he heard quiet breathing beneath the wooden dining table. He grabbed hold of the side of the table and threw it away, revealing the source of the noise hidden beneath, a scared nine year old girl was what he found, he grinned manically as he grabbed hold of the child by the arm and lifted her up.

"What do we have here? A little girl who likes playing hide and seek" heckled the Wildman that had Freda by the arm.

"Take her to the others, I'll see what else she has been hiding" said the second, the first laughed while dragging the girl from the house and the golden sword in his other hand, as the first left the house the second came journeyed into the adjacent room.

He ripped down the ragged curtain that acted as a door, seemingly finding it easier to destroy it than to simply brush it aside; as he entered the room he found a small bedroom with a two person bed and a small bedside stool with a bowl and a towel. He looked to the bed and saw someone asleep, he approached quickly, and when he was above the slumbering someone he stopped dead in his tracks, he laid his eyes on a dazzlingly attractive woman – she had a lightly pale heart-shaped face that looked silky smooth, no blemishes or wrinkles marred her flawless face what-so-ever, her golden hair, which would have flown down past her shoulder, lay beneath her deceptively delicate figure and creating a gorgeous frame to her already marvelous face – as he gazed at her he was overcome with one thing.

He smiled lecherously as he sat down on the bed next to the unconscious woman, his hand shaking and his mouth watering at the despicable thought that were rushing through his mind, he moved his hand forward to her blouse intent on learning how tantalizing the rest of her form is. As his hands reached the edge of the blouse, his blood starting to pump harder and his mind going to into overdrive at the treasures that lay beneath, it was grasped by a powerful hand, he gasped in shock before he groaned in pain as it was slowly twisted and crushed. Before he could let out a scream for help another hand wrapped around his throat, he couldn't breathe and he felt the his lungs and throat begin the burn with pain as it begged for airflow, with his only free hand he tried to pry it away. But his attacker's strength was greater than his own; he focused his eyes to look for his assailant, thinking he would find a large muscled farm worker or villager, but he was dead wrong, his eyes moved towards the only other occupant of the room.

Laying there on the bed, both her arms extended outward, one wrapped tightly around his forearm, the other around his throat, he could feel his lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen and his vision begin the swim, he tried to remove the limb but found no leverage to do so. How was she able to hold him like this, she was only a woman - those were his thoughts - he like many men believed that woman were weaker than men, both in strength and the will to fight and kill, so how was it that this one was stronger than him? His slowly distorting eyes looked into hers, even though his vision was clouded and his mind was telling him to get out of her grip and get air, he could not help but feel intimidated by her stare, golden amber eyes stared vengefully into his, intent on exacting retribution on him for his intentional crime.

Her grip tightened and he felt like his neck was about the break from the vice it was caught in, his arm was in a similar situation, he felt the jarring pain run up his arm as his muscles and bones were being broken under this woman's inhuman strength. With a twist he felt his arm break, but he didn't cry out, he could not bring the air to his lungs nor could he force it out, he was left there to writhe in silent agony, she leapt from her bed, the man still in her clutches, and twisted him around until his back was to her. Releasing his broken arm she placed her hand over his chin, with a single twist and crack his life was ended; she unceremoniously dropped his lifeless corpse to the ground and looked at it with disgust.

"Pay for your sins, mongrel" Joana said vehemently, her blood was boiling at the scene she awoke to; a man had tried to take advantage of her in her sleep, the thought alone made her want to vomit. Her anger was cast aside for the moment to discern where she was, she looked down to find she was no longer within the confines of her armor and her sword could not be noticeably seen, she walked slowly into the other room looking out for any other hostiles. Her gaze landed on the open cupboard to her left, her armor placed neatly inside and her shield hidden under a small shroud beneath it, but her sword was not, she looked around for any other place where it could be kept and found nothing. Her search was ended when she heard screaming from outside, she rushed over to the window but hid out of view, she looked outside to see dozens of towns people being held captive by a small group of ruffians, similar to the man she had killed a few moments ago.

She noticed one who was standing over a girl, who lay there crying on the floor while an older woman desperately tried to reach her, he kicked her again, earning another scream of pain from the child and another cry of alarm from what was likely her mother. Joana looked on at the scene with narrow eyes, she could see the satisfaction of those men as they held those weaker than them captive; she saw them for what they really were, cowards, men who only were as brave as how many more men they had then the others they were fighting against. Then she noticed her sword, in the hands of the same barbarian that was hurting the girl, which did it for her, she could feel her fury rising to it breaking point, no one, let alone some low bread mongrel touches an holy artifact that has been gifted to her by her master when she became a Paladin. Her face became one of tranquil fury; only a light scowl showed on her flawless features, she walked to the door and into the open, intent of stopping this madness and reclaiming her sword.

* * *

Freda struggled with all her might to get free from the man's grip, but she was only a child and had little chance of doing so, she tried to pull herself free and scratched at the man's arm but all her attempts were futile. Eventually she was freed from his iron grip, but not of her own volition or effort, she was cast to the ground and landed face first into the mud, she felt her arms jarred as she landed, they stung as she pushed herself up onto her knees. She felt a boot connect with her back and she was knocked forward again, her hand stopping her from falling head first but the pain she felt afterwards was making her regret that instinct, then the cruel voice of the man pulled her out of her pain induced haze.

"Get with the rest of them" he growled, pointing the sword at her, this caught some people's attention mostly from the other Wildmen.

"Hey, where did you get that?" called out one; he had a woman by the hair and was scrutinizing her features, likely for some leisurely activity later.

"Found it in the house with that one" pointing the sword at the glowering Freda, she wasn't angry at the man for roughhousing her or being mean but the fact he was holding that sword, that wasn't his sword, it was the angel's sword.

"Damn, that thing is going to be worth a fortune, we'll probably be set for life" another boisterously exclaimed

"Yeah, there's also some armor as well, looks like it's made of gold" he said, a satisfied grin on his face as he twirled the sword around in his hands.

"You can't have that!" they all looked down the too Freda, she tried to stare at them defiantly but it looked more like a pout, the villagers were fearful of the girls safety while the Wildmen were slightly amused. "That's the angel's sword! You can't have it!"

It was at those last words that the Wildmen looked at one another, their confusion evident, before they burst out into hysterical laughter, they couldn't believe what they were hearing; it had to be one of the most hilarious things they have ever heard. Freda jumped to her feet and rushed at the man, even though she knew she couldn't do anything she had to try, she tried to reach for the sword but the Wildman pulled it away from her and held her back with his free hand, she struggled to get past him, hitting and yelling at him to let go. Eventually he threw her down onto the ground; she let out a scared yell before it turned to scream of pain, from the crowd a single middle aged woman tried to stand but another Wildman kept her in place.

"Freda!" she screamed, her fear evident as her relationship to the young girl on the ground, her worry for her daughters overriding her own wellbeing.

The Wildman that had cast the young Freda down kneeled over her, his face contorted in a mock concern, he gripped her by the shoulder and lifted the little girl up; mud smeared her face which was twisted into a hateful glare.

"Aw, is the little girl sad, does she want to cry" he mocked, earning a few laughs from his fellow Dunlending's, but their laughter died soon after. Freda hand shot forward and scratched at the man's face, her long fingernails tearing into his face and over his eye, he recoiled in pain and grasped his face as he moved away.

He stood there hunched over yelling profanities and covering his face, though he was not bleeding the pain he felt was more to his pride than to any wound the girl could inflict upon him, he turned to her and paced over to the still kneeling girl. He booted her in the chest knocking her onto her back; she cried out as she struck the muddy ground, she rolled on her side cradling herself as she tried to deal with the pain, but that pain was replaced with another. The man's boot crashed into her stomach and she let out a pained yell, tears were welling in her eyes, her mother fought all that more desperately to reach her daughter, all the while the man continued to kick and beat her, the other Wildmen laughed and cheered him on as he did.

Freda could only lie there and take each and every blow that was sent her way, she couldn't stop the tears from flowing from her eyes and she wept for every hit she took, but even though she was in pain and crying she had hope. She knew that the gods didn't strike down evil or bad people, for it was not their place to do so, for it was man's duty to remove the evil and bad people from the world, which was what her father had told her. Yet her hope did not rest in the gods this day, she had found something so beautiful that it could only be divine, that woman that they found two days ago was what she prayed to now, she was the only thing that she could think of that could rid this world of evil, she didn't know why but when she looked at her she felt happy. As her eyes became blurred from her tears she saw something past the man who beat her, towards her home she saw someone move out through the door; at first she thought it was the other man, but she saw a golden halo of hair and an elegant white dress. She smiled in spite of the pain, the angel was coming; she was coming to save her.

The Wildman looked down at the girl at his feet, he had kicked her over a dozen times and he could see the tears in her eyes, yet, why is it that she is smiling? He looked up to his fellow men to see them staring off at something. He turned on his feet and low and behold he saw a tantalizing prize before him, walking out from the house he had dragged the girl was a stunning woman, she was beautiful and all he could think about was what she was like without that white dress on. He stared at her for a while, thinking that his friend had found her hiding and was bringing her out for the rest to see, but he did not see him come out after her, where was he?

"Hello pretty lady" the lecherous smile on his face made her eyes narrow in contempt, men, they were pigs no matter where she went. She could see the lustful gazes of the men before her and she couldn't help but sneer at them. "Where have you been hiding? I must say Nurn can really find good things. I might actually keep you."

Joana stopped a few meters away from the Dunlending's and watched them closely, she was unarmed while they were not, and they had prisoners which made fighting back a problem, she had to get them away from the villagers or they could be killed.

"Hey, where is Nurn" asked the Wildman who had her sword in his hands, he smirked at her before continuing "Did he have a go and is sleeping off his efforts."

"No" she said, her voice betraying no emotion as she continued. "He's dead."

This shocked those around them, he was dead? Most of them thought; it was impossible for them to believe, how was he dead?

"How?" growled the Wildman

"First I broke his arm" her words carried a sharp edge to them, making some of the Dunlending's flinch along with some of the villagers. "Then, I broke his neck."

Her response was met with an irritated laugh, the man with her sword did not believe her words, he looked at her and before he could get a word in edgewise she spoke.

"You will return that sword and leave here, and you will not be harmed" she commanded her voice was strong and firm, if she was a man they might have actually listened to her, but she was met with laughter, she did not wait for them to stop before she continues. "Until I come for you and hunt you down and kill you like the mongrel dogs you are."

Her voice was cold, a stark contradiction to her eyes that burned with red flame, the Wildmen stopped and stared at the woman slightly shocked, they had never met someone like this before; her eyes betrayed her true emotions. She was angry and for reasons they could not fathom they knew they should be scared of her, but the more testosterone side of their minds told them that she was a woman, and therefore: harmless.

"Listen hear wench" started the man, Joana scowled at him, he slowly approached her, the flat side of her sword resting against his shoulder, he has a cocky swagger about him that she did not care for. "You obviously don't know how the world works around here, I am a man, therefore you, a woman, should be groveling at my feet and either be cooking my meals or keeping me warm in bed. And when a woman gets out of line we put them back in her place."

He was standing in front of Joana now, her sword no longer resting plainly on his shoulder but over her own and pressed lightly against the right side of her neck, he was trying to intimidate her, the fact that he smelled like dung did not register to her. More-so the fact that he and what would appear to be the rest of these men looked down of woman, that she hated, these mongrels would be taught a lesson, a final lesson. She lifted her right hand and grabbed hold of the weapons blade, she did not make any effort to remove the weapon but instead focus her holy power through it, the man saw this as some futile attempt to move the blade away and did not noticed at first that the sword was starting to grow hotter. When he tried to move the blade closer to her neck he found it impossible to move, like it was caught in some sort of vice, he pulled on it and found it stuck in place, he looked at her in surprise, was she actually holding onto the blade with her bare hand.

Then he noticed it, the handle was starting to get warmer, it was mild irritation so he ignored it at first, but then his hand started to burn, he looked at the woman and then blade again, he could see the weapon start to glow. He gritted his teeth as the heat pierced through his glove and touched his bare skin, he drew back his fist and swung it toward her face, as it approached she did not openly react, the most she did was move her eyes to look at the oncoming fist. Then in a split second her hand shot up and caught his wrist, everyone who saw it were shocked beyond words, she had actually caught his fist and was holding him immobile, he tried to wrestle his hand and the blade free from her grasp but could not. He felt his hand begin to blister and burn, he saw smoke and the smell of burning flesh invade his nostrils, he cried out in pain one last time before he let go of the blade and tried to get away from the woman.

But his other hand still remained trapped in her iron grip, he did not notice it at first that he was still being held in place by her; he looked to his hand and saw a burnt outlining of where he had grasped the hit, a line of runes ran across his palm along with several random artistic streaks. Smoke and blisters still kept coming off of his skin, he grimaced at the sight of his hand, he looked away to the source of his agony and it then that his anger was replaced with terror; she was still right in front of him and his wrist still in her grip. She still held the sword by the blade and looked at him with no emotion on her face, but he knew that boiling insider her was a cold fury waiting to be released, this was the fear his instinct warned him about and now he knew he was going to die.

She flipped the blade in her hand, it flew through the air for a moment, before she caught it by the handle, she drew the weapon back and with an upward swing she cut a deep mortal wound into the man she had captive. Blood flew out from his wound like a dam that had been destroyed, he flew back from the blow, and it was then that she let him go so that his body may tumble to the ground unhindered. She looked on uncaringly as the man hit the earth with an audible thud, after that there was no more sound, it would almost seem that nature itself had been forced silent as the unimaginable feat that just took place, everyone was stunned at the display they saw.

She had overpowered a man and then killed him after forcing him to let go of his sword, the Dunlendings were the most surprised, they didn't believe that this fragile looking woman could a threat to one of them, but now one of their own lay dead at her feet. They drew their weapon and readied themselves, one got behind a villager and threatened to kill him if she moved, and she looked at the eleven mongrels before her, she drew back her sword over her chest and began pouring her power into the weapon. Soon Abaddon was wrenched in golden flames, shocking them even more; with a single chant she swung her sword.

"**Holy Wrath!**" she swung her sword in a wide horizontal arc, her sword did nothing but the energy that wrenched the blade in flames did, as she swung her sword eleven golden orbs shot out towards the bewildered Dunlendings.

The orbs struck them all and they were all send hurtling across the village, landing almost ten meters away from where they once stood, they were still alive but badly hurt by the attack, which she expected. The power did not actually hurt them, the spell: **Holy Wrath**, does not have to capability to kill a living creature, it can only wound or kill a demon or an undead monstrosity, against everything else it is just a ball of concussive energy, which was good when one had to wound a target rather than kill it. She made her way towards them, intent on finishing them off before any more lives are put in danger, as she moved she stepped in front of the wounded girl, she looked down at Freda and saw she was looking up at her with teary eyes, she was brave for standing up against those men. Joana placed a hand on her chest and slowly she let the holy light flow out of her and into the little girl, the towns people watched as she used magic to do something to the girl, some were scared others were mesmerized.

Once the light died down laying there was Freda, she was asleep with a happy smile on her face, her wounds were gone and she looked completely fine, Joana rose from her knee and continued on her way. The villagers parted way for her as she advanced on the now rising Dunlending warriors, for their part they got up fairly quickly, but they were all going to die soon enough, even though her first attack didn't kill them that didn't man her next ones wont. She was only a few feet away from the first warrior, she did not increase her pace or show any signs she cared of his presence, when he saw her he lunged, his sword in one hand and above his head. She watched as he charged in like an amateur, no skill or grace, she observed with boredom as he brought his sword down towards her head, at the last moment she sidestepped to the left and with her blade in her right hand impaled the man through the chest. A shocked expression passed over his features before his facial muscles relaxed signaling his death, she withdrew her sword just as fast as she had stabbed it in, he fell forward and hit the ground with a thud, but Joana had already started to move on to her next target.

Two men were standing side by side, their blades in front of them in an attempt to defend themselves, they saw the Paladin approaching, her sword held nimbly in her right hand and her features and approach betraying no signs of what she was planning. They both lunged at her their weapons raised; she did not flinch or prepare to defend herself from the oncoming attack, as they drew closer her hard golden eyes focused on the enemy charging her and their weapons. When they were upon her the first attacked, she raised her sword to block the flimsy strike, his sword clashed with hers and he struggled to push his blade any further towards her, while he had her defending from one blade the other Wildman attacked from her left. He brought his one handed sword back and swung at her in a wide horizontal arc, he thought he had her there was no way she could stop him from hitting her, she glanced at his from the corner of her eye and quickly turned towards him.

She reached out and grabbed hold of his sword hand, his blade halted as soon as she grasped his hand, he couldn't move it in any way shape or form, she had stopped his attack with her bare hand all the while keeping the other man's sword away with her own. With a flick of her right wrist she knocked the man's sword away; he stumbled to her right, losing his balance now that he wasn't being resisted by anything anymore, then she twisted the other man's hand to force him to expose his chest. Quickly she swung her sword at the trapped Dunlending man and he was cut across the chest, but as soon as she had finished her stroke she made another, letting go of the man she turned and with her blade over her chest she performed a backward downward swing at the other, he was starting to balance himself when her blade sliced into his back. He fell to his knees before he lurched forward and crashed into the ground, but before this, the other man had fallen backward and had hit the ground dead at the exact same moment, one with a deep slash across his chest and the other across his back.

The entire display took only five seconds, from when the sword first connected to when they both hit the ground, and she did it effortlessly, to be able to defeat two different warriors in an instant on the fly was the mark of a skilled warrior. The eight remaining warriors looked at her with complete shock, she had just killed four of their own in a matter of minutes and now she was coming for them, they didn't run though, they were too arrogant and prideful to allow a mere woman to get the better of them, no matter how strong she was. They knew they couldn't beat her one on one, so they did what they think was the only way they could win, they charged at her all at once, Joana looked at the eight rushing warriors and sneered, typical, she thought, no honor among them. She gripped her blade more tightly, she may be prideful but she did not allow that to become arrogance, she knew she couldn't act half-heartedly when eight warriors were attacking at once, no matter how miserably weak they were.

The they came at her in the same direction, she knew that a prolonged fight would end with her getting killed, she didn't have access to all of her power yet, she still needed time to recover, so she would have to make sure she uses all her skill to take these men down. She analyzed the enemies ahead of her; the first three were very close, while the fourth and fifth were about two seconds behind the third, while the last three were coming in a few seconds after them. She looked at them all and she had already planned out how this was going to end. The first was upon her, his sword high above his head and just a second away from bringing it down, she moved front in front of him to behind, her sword slicing open his stomach, his flesh was nothing to her razor sharp blade. She jolted to the right and stopped the seconds Wildman's sword before he could swing, then she clenched her fist and delivered a mean left hook to his jaw, he went limp and fell to the ground in a heap. She twisted herself with the punch and ducked under the blade that was thrust towards her, twisting her blade into a reverse grip as she crouched and turned, she buried her sword into his stomach before quickly removing it while leaping to her feet to deal with the Fourth and Fifth.

They came at her like the first three, reckless and without caution, they were truly foolish if they think they could try to overwhelm her with such a crude and obviously poorly carried out tactic – they weren't even close enough together to make their plan work at all, they were too far spaced out, she only needed to kill them one at a time, if she was less experienced she would be in trouble, but she had been in wars that broke even the most experienced of warriors, this was nothing – she cast the thoughts of their incompetence aside and focused on how to deal with them. Both attacked simultaneously, but she was prepared, deflecting the Dunlending's sword to her left she knocked him off balance, she then swung her sword towards the one on her right, she cut into his chest and he spun on his feet until his back was facing her. With her sword still raised in the air she cut him again down the back, he let out an agonizing scream before his wound did him in, she drew her blade across her chest and did a full twist, the fourth Wildman had regain his balance and turned back to the fight, the last thing he saw was the woman turning abruptly towards him and her sword swinging towards his neck.

A moment later his head was severed from his shoulders, she didn't even give them a second glance as she watched the last three surviving Dunlending's halt in their attack and slowly regrouped; they must have caught on that they can't charge in carelessly. She studied their current positions and quickly came up with a plan to deal with them, they were lined up perfectly, which was the problem, attacking one would mean she would have two on one side or one on either, this was going to be tricky. Then an idea came to her, she gripped her sword in a reverse grip and then cut into her dress, she cut down the overskirt along the inside of her left leg, the men were looking at her confused at her action they had no idea what she was doing. Then they saw her pale slender leg and that was visible up to the top of her thigh, they were gawking at it for a few moments before their attention was taken away from the slender limb to the sound of something whistling then a thump and grunt.

Turning to their left they saw the man at the end of the line had just been impaled with the woman's sword, shocked was the only word to describe what just happened, they had not seen her move from that spot a few meters away from them and yet the man they were looking at now was dead. Then the man that was once in the middle of the once surviving trio heard something to his right, he turned to see the man to his right had just been blindsided by a kick to the gut, the woman's slender leg planting itself his midriff and knocking the man off his feet and several feet back. He was frozen for a moment trying to take in what just happened, his gaze going from the woman to her extended slender leg and then back to the woman's burning eyes, he tried to swing his sword but she caught his arm and with a quick set of movement she broke his arm in three places. He dropped his sword and then fell to his knees, but his pain was short lived, she came up behind him and then snapped his neck in a single quick motion, she pushed him forward and into the mud, turning to the impaled man to her left she grasped her sword hilt and pulled it free.

She turned to the beaten man behind her and slowly advanced on him, he raised his sword in front of him to try and protect himself, but she swatted it away with her own before grabbing him by the scuff of his neck and lifting him towards her. She held her blade at his throat and prepared to slice his neck open, but the hesitated for a moment, could she kill him, he was a defenseless man, true he had tried to kill her but still her paladin honor still dictated her actions. Which include killing an unarmed man, though there were a few exceptions to this rule, such as them still being dangerous even though they are unarmed, such as orc who could kill with their fists alone, but a human being, one who is also wounded did not sit well with her. Her master always taught her that it is easy to kill an evil man and let the gods sort them out, but on the other hand, if they are made to pay for their sins in this world then it is possible for them to be redeemed before they journey to the next world.

Though the thought of these mongrels earning any sort of absolution was repugnant, but she had to see the good behind it, she swallowed her anger and withdrew her blade, the man looked relieved for a moment, and then punched the man in the jaw, knocking him out cold. She kept hold of him by the scuff of his neck, she turned and started to drag the unconscious man towards the gawking villagers, she looked at them with a plain expression before she stopped next to the other unconscious man, putting her sword between her arm and side, she grabbed hold of his shirt and dragged him along as well. When she was standing in front of an elderly gentleman, she dropped the two knocked out Dunlending's, and with an oddly firm feminine voice she asked.

"These men are still alive, you will need to restrain them until the authority of these lands come to take them." She took in the still shocked faces of the villager before her, she suspected that the little battle that just took place was something they had never seen before, that was the half-truth, they had not for a second thought she would be able to defeat them all single-handedly. Not waiting for a reply she continued.

"My name is Joana Lightlance, Paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand; can you tell me where I am?"

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**Well that's a wrap, cant wait to see what you think and hope you enjoy this chapter along with the prologue of my new story.**


	13. Chapter 11: Battle of the North - Part 3

**Hello everybody, **

**Hope you're enjoying the holidays, I am. I got so many cool things this year and lost so much money, I'm F$ #ing broke, and therefor need a job like right now. HAH! On with the reviews**

**Panthour: Thanks for letting me know, but I defend that he is having a bad time, after all he is leading the defence of a kingdom on nearly three fronts against Harodrim, Mordor and Corsairs, and so he would be a bit suspicious of those around him. And I am just going off on how he acted when he first met Frodo and Sam in the movie, so sadly that's all I got as a reference, but thanks for letting me know, I'll try to stick to his profile a bit better.**

**Hero's Valor: Don't worry, you will see him next chapter, as well as several others, now that Mairne is starting to finish up with his journey through the North Downs I can work on my other Characters a bit. And also Varro is a sadistic mass murdering monster, but he is also has a soft spot for some things, which will be revealed later on.**

**Leapinglemur: Yes, it's fun to watch woman kick ass, like in all those anime shows, and in the WWE, or mud wrestling, or pillow fights, or…(dirty thoughts) yeah, wet T-shirts, and don't worry about Zul'kal he'll probably survive, which remind me, keep voting.**

**Ultima-owner: Of course, why would she, I mean I'm willing to bet if she wasn't in a celibate order she would have totally gone for it. as for the mongrels, don't worry, they're no longer men, they lost to a woman, their spirit is broken and therefor they're as good as dead.**

**Guest: Faster Updates? MotherF #$U you should have said so earlier, you want faster updates its fifty bucks a pop. (Homage to the HellBenders – go to youtube and you will be disturbed)**

**Kiue Jin: Yes, there is nothing more epic than a kick to the balls with an Iron Greave, as for what happens after, I'll make an epilogue for all that, and I have some ideas what they will be doing, and thinking if they should return or not.**

**Exillion: ….**

**Here is the last part in the War of the North Arc, and by far the longest chapter I have written to date, it took me a week to do this and I have to say it was a bastard to get through. But since I'm a bigger bastard he was nuttin' compared to me.**

**Also to let you all know, I will be taking the rest of the month off to collect myself and repress my inner tendencies to commit mass murder and mayhem, I think I'll read a good book, or watch my little pony, and if I don't feel like my masculinity is at stake I won't perform unspeakable acts against humanity on those who I don't like. _ *Exillion* Yeah no homicidal maniacs here, and to let you know I will be posting up chapter 02 of United against the Legion of flames later, so keep an eye out.**

**And for the polls**

**Zul'kal: **

**Options 01: 4 vote/s**

**Option 02: 0 vote/s**

**Option 03: 3 ½ vote/s**

**Option 04: 1 vote/s**

**Parings:**

**None, come on I was being serious!**

**Anyway on with the Chapter.**

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**Chapter: 11: War of the North: Part 3 – Battle for Trestlebridge**

The sun was rising in the east, though its rays were seen over the peaks of the mountains the town of Trestlebridge was still shrouded in darkness, it would take a few hours before the town was illuminated by the coming dawn. The people in Trestlebridge had a peaceful existence in these mountainous regions, enjoying the seclusion it brought from those in the Bree-lands, and allowed them to live out uneventful lives without the worry of war or death. But that was not how it was today, just as the sun began to rise and the first glimpse of orange hue began to peak over the mountain tops to the east they were attacked, orcs have been a thorn in the side of this villages existence for many years now. There were constant attacks from the north and the east, they would come in small bands of ten or twenty to rouse up the village to try to loot and pillage, but the valiant guardians of the mountain village had always been able to hold them back and save the small hamlet countless times in the past. These highly trained and disciplined groups of warriors protected the town and its people with their live day in and day out, staving off attacks from the orcs at any point, whether it be during the day or the night they would fight them off and give the village for another dawn to look forward to.

But today was not the same.

"Get across the bridge, call for reinforcements!" called Guardsman Otley, he sunk his sword into the chest of an orc before he turned and rushed across the bridge, five of his men following closely behind.

Twenty minutes ago the orcs had attacked the far side of the bridge, this was not an unnatural occurrence, they had attacked many times in the past, but this was not just a normal attack that could be repelled by a good amount of guards and skill with a sword. There were far too many of them for this to be a normal attack, there were at least fifty of them, they had the guards outnumbered more than two to one; they had lost ten men in the first charge and another five had fallen shortly after. The entire village was in grave danger, if they didn't get their reinforcements soon there would be no one left to defend the village, he reached the end of the bridge and saw ten warriors waiting for them, and they were lined up in two rows of five, with the first kneeling in front of the second. They had their bows drawn and were waiting for their battle-worn comrades to move aside so they could shoot at the oncoming orcs, Guardsman Otley and his five remaining guardsmen did so without a command, the orc only a few meters behind them.

A quick volley of arrows were sent towards the approaching orcs, their screams of carnage were halted with screams of pain and gasps as they were struck dead, six fell to the steel tipped bolts, but more were on their way across the bridge, unperturbed by the deaths of those in front of them. But the guardsman were disciplined warriors that would not back away from an enemy so easily, they drew arrows from their quivers and quickly shot them towards their foe, but this was a delaying strategy only, they needed more men to hold them back. In total they had maybe thirty soldiers left, and that's with the ones that had survived the first wave of orcs less than twenty minutes ago. They were fighting a losing battle, if they didn't get reinforcements soon they were all going to die, they could hold them off if they had the Captain and his men here, but he was likely guarding the Boskin's Estate.

An agonizing cry came from behind him; he turned and saw the source of the pained yelp, one of the archers had been struck in the stomach with an arrow, he was writhing in pain on the ground while one of his own men tried to pull him clear of the battlefield. That was another warrior out of the fight, the battle and screams started to wake the town's folk, people came scurrying out of their homes and inns to see what the commotion was, and he knew if they saw the sorry state the guards were in there would be a panic. But from this ruckus the rest of the guards began to gather together, all fifteen of them came rushing towards the bridge, led by Nellie Boskins and Captain Trotter, the unofficial leader of Trestlebridge and the Captain of the Guard respectively.

"Guardsman report!" barked Trotter; another hail of arrows could be heard whistling through the air as he spoke, before the startled cries of orcs then several heavy thuds, Otley composed himself for a moment before he spoke.

"A large group of orcs have attacked sir, at least fifty of them, we lost fifteen of our men and three are wounded." Reported Otley, behind him another flurry of arrows were heard, but they were not just from his men, two more archers and a guardsman fell to the ground, one dead with an arrow through his neck and the other two had arrows lodged in their legs, arms or shoulder.

"Archers! Get to cover!" ordered Trotter, his voice overshadowing all others, the archers obeyed the command and rushed to either side of the bridge and hid behind the bridge posts, peeking out of covered to shoot any visible orcs or goblins that were rushing over.

"Sir, what are your orders?" asked Otley, Captain Trotter remained mute for a few moments, he needed to think of a way to deal with these beasts, they couldn't hold the bridge for long, it was starting to get packed tightly with orcs and goblins, they were definitely going to get inside the town if they didn't stop them or at least hold them off.

"Men form up on me!" shouted Trotter; the warriors did so, leaving the seven archers to hold the enemy at bay while they plan the offensive. "We can't hold the bridge for long, there are too many, the best we can do is meet them at the middle and at least hold them off on equal ground."

All the men did not complain or show any fear, they had been in situations like this before, they had fought against odds that would have ended this village in the past many times, this was no different, even though this battle was one that would likely end with their deaths they would do their duty to the end.

"When the archers pull back we will intercept the orcs and keep them from getting too far across the bridge, the tight confines can work to our advantage, their numbers will count for nothing in the end, once we have done this all that is required: is time." He looked to them and made sure they understood the plan, they all nodded in unison and he continued "The first group will consist of seven Guardsman, they will lead the charge and hold the orcs back for as long as they can, and then the next group will switch with them and hold them orcs off while they rest. And if the man in front of you should fall, you will take his place."

Another round of nodded was met after his explanation, he nodded himself with pride, these were some of the best men he had ever worked with, they showed no fear in the face of danger and that was what he was most proud of. He turned from his men as they rushed off to get ready to fight the orcs, he faced Nellie Boskins, she looked to him with slight apprehension in her weary features, she had always had the safety of this village on her mind and now that it was on the brink of destruction she couldn't help but be frightened.

"Miss Boskins, gather the villagers together, and get them to Bree, it is likely the only safe place they can go" Trotter said to her, he knew that even if only a handful of orcs survived then this town would be doomed, they had no way to defend themselves, their only choice would be to escape while they still could.

"We can't leave, this is our home; we won't allow the orcs to take It." she tried to protest, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her complaints. She looked up into the eyes of the Guard Captain, a sad smile on his face as he tried to reassure her, she couldn't help but feel regret knowing that in the next few minute he along with all his men might be dead.

"I know, but we must look to the safety of the villages people before the village itself, we cannot replace those that are lost should we fail." He reasoned, she looked like she wanted to argue some more but bit her tongue, she knew he was right, if the people were killed what point would there be to protect the village?

She nodded her head stiffly, she didn't like it but there was little she could do to argue against the logic, she turned around and started to gather the now waking townspeople, Trotter had been guarding the woman for many years now and he was amazed on how she was able to rally people to her cause. That was the thing he respected about her, her ability to get people too unite and work together for a cause, this would probably be the last time he would see her, he was saddened by that simply fact, she was a good friend and a good leader. Casting aside his worry of impending doom he turned to his soldiers, they were already set up into three separate groups of seven, he closed in on the men and saw that the orcs were starting to push through. He drew his sword and with a cry he led his men across the bridge to meet the enemy.

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Gildor and his men were running through the Western Pass of Nan Wathren. Light began to seep into the darkness and illuminate their way, dawn was approaching and they needed to get to the village, they had been running for the last four hours, stopping only for a few hours to rest before they ran the last stretch to the Greenway fields. But their minds had not known rest since the arrival of that earth elemental in the Western Pass of Nan Wathren, - who from what they had heard was called Stalag'nar - and even though his appearance would roused up many questions from his men and how their companion in their mission seemed able to speak and parley with the creature, they were oddly quiet. They only cast the occasional glance toward the shaman at random points, likely when their thoughts pertained to him, but they had been solely focused in their mission, reach Trestlebridge and stop the orcs from decimating the town, that is what they needed to do first, questions can come later.

As they passed over the last hill they finally came into view of the village, but it was to a sight they did not wish to see, they could see through the unclear dawn that the village was under attack, dozens of orcs were trying to cross the bridge. They could make out about forty of them, and the defenders were struggling to hold them off, the rangers gritted their teeth, where they too late, no this was just another band of orcs, likely sent to just get rid of most of the defenders so that when the main body arrives they could push right through. Mairne stood next to Gildor, they observed the scene before them; they could see around seventeen town militiamen fending off the orcs; and they were holding them off valiantly, but still, they were fighting a losing battle.

Mairne grasped his hammer and fastened his shield to his arm, he was ready to deal out death to the creatures below, Gildor followed suit and drew his twin blades and with a small spin he tested there weight before dropping them to his sides, readying himself to charge. He turned and without the need to order his men, unsheathed their swords or readied their bows and grasped an arrow from their quivers, this was what they were here for, Mairne took the lead in the charge, rushing down the slope to the unprepared orcs.

"Show these scum what a true warrior is!" he bellowed to the elves, they cheered as they charged down at the fighting orcs; they were still considerable distance away from them to engage in melee so the archers started raining down arrows on top of the foul beasts. As they approached they could see the orcs start to fall, one or two dropped at a time every few seconds, then another would fall shortly after, Mairne was impressed, these Elven rangers reminded him of the Night Elf Sentinels of Ashenvale and the Blood Elf Rangers of Eversong.

Soon the orcs took noticed of their fallen, turning they were able to make out the shadowy forms of the elves and one large creature leading them, but that did little to daunt them, they howled and charged in like animals, ready to carve up anything that got in their way. The first to reach them had his head completely obliterated by a straight thrust of Stonerender, the metal hammer head replacing where its own skull one existed, quickly pulling his hammer back Mairne delivered another crushing blow. Impacting on another orcs collarbone he drove the animal straight into the ground, its body impacted the earth as hard as the hammer impacted its neck, then he brought up his hammer and delivered a similar fate unto the orc to his left. Gildor flew past him and delivered his own brand of death, unlike Mairne who delivered powerful and bludgeoning blows, Gildor was more swift and precise with the blow he dealt; he would cut into the enemies guard and then either cripple or kill the enemy outright.

He ducked and twisted under the orcs guard and with his left elven sword in a reversed grip delivered his blade into the orcs gut, and as quickly as he placed it there it was removed, he turned on his heels as he straightened himself and with the same blade stabbed another approaching orc through the chest. He was able to twist his weapon mid swing, change his grip from a reverse to a normal one in the seconds to kill the orc behind him, which was something only an accomplished swordsman could be able to achieve, and he was able to do so with little sign of effort on his part. Gildor ripped his blade free from the orcs chest and was already slaying his next opponent, with one sword he would either deflect or break the guard of one orc and then with his other sword deal a quick killing blow, he was a skilled warrior; he would have been one of the elite back in his world, a champion of the sword. Mairne raised his shield to deflect a large axe that descended towards him, he berated himself, this was no time to be distracted, there was a war going on right now, he knocked the crude weapon away and then sent his hammer towards the orcs unprotected skull. His head did not blow apart from the attack, some of it was still connected to the rest of the orcs body, but most of the crown and right side of its face was gone, not bothering to acknowledge his handiwork he set off towards the bridge, intent on decimating the orcs before any more of the humans are killed.

Behind him Medlichen and another two elven rangers followed, ready to support the shaman in his attack, though it may not be needed, it was better to have the support of allies by your side than rather face an enemy force alone. An orc turned towards him and Mairne jabbed his hammer into the beast's chest, its body was sent flying backward into those behind it, its chest had caved in on itself bringing it only momentary agony before it died, the orcs turned to see their attackers and were shocked to see the enormous beast that had cornered them. Now the orcs were fighting on two fronts that they could not support, attacked by an impenetrable wall of soldiers from the front and by a juggernaut from the back, Mairne slowly walked forward to the trapped orcs and began his work of eliminating the beasts from existence.

* * *

Captain Trotter did not know what was going on, a few minutes ago the orcs seemed to be letting up, almost like they were starting to lose their nerves, their numbers were lessening and some were even turning their backs on them and running off. If it wasn't for one of the archers who had called out he would have never known why, reinforcements have arrived, that was what he had heard from afar; they were attacking the orcs across the span and preventing them from getting across the bridge. He cut down an orc that he had been fighting off for the last minute and then he saw it, two elven rangers through the orc group that was trying to push through into Trestlebridge; they were fighting off the beasts on the opposite side of the bridge and forcing some of them away from the defenders. Perfect, he thought, with the orcs distracted like this they should make quick work of them no problem, he swung his sword at another orc and his steel met flesh, the orc buckled to its knees, the sharp edge had cut clean through its shoulder and into its chest, pulling his weapon free he went after another.

He stabbed his sword forward with both hands, but it was deflected to the side before it could connect with the orcs stomach, he steadied himself and was able to dodge the orc's counterattack before retaliating with one of his own. Swinging his sword down toward the orc he met steel instead of flesh, but he had expected that, jolting forward he kneed the orc in the gut - the beast keeled over and was left completely defenceless, a downward jab later and his sword impaled its skull before striking the wood floor of the bridge. He pulled his sword free quickly to deliver its edge to another enemy, but his attention was caught when he saw an orc lurch forward before hitting the floor with a thud, behind it one of the elven rangers stood, two twin blades in his hands and ready to sink them into his next enemy.

He did so quickly, he thrust one forward into an orc stomach, while with the other he raised to block a downward swing of an orcs sword, and for such a delicate looking piece of weaponry it held its own against the orc cumbersome weapon. He ripped the sword free from the orcs stomach; instead of pulling it through whence it came he tugged it to the left and out the orcs side, nearly cutting the miserable beast in half, even though the blade was wrapped around meat and likely bone he wrenched the weapon out with little effort. Then he delivered the same blade across the other orc's stomach, in a single motion he ripped his blade free and then delivered it into another, he didn't know if it was because of the blades sharpness or the user's strength but it was impressive to see a weapon and wielder kill his enemies so easily. Looking around he saw the orcs were spread out; only a small group were actually fighting his men now, while most were trying to stop those who were attack from behind, which was likely a good idea to fight against elven warriors was not a situation one would like to find himself in. He executed another orc, his blade cutting deep into its chest and stomach, he watched as it hit the ground dead, no more movement could be seen from its corpse to suggest otherwise, as soon as it had fallen another had rushed in to take its place.

It wielded a sword in a single hand and rushed in like a berserker, intent on killing the Captain or at least die trying, Trotter raised his sword and prepared himself, he could jump in just as it swung its sword, block it and then cast the weapon aside before stabbing the orc through the heart. He couldn't dodge the attack - there wasn't enough room - he didn't want to get into a long fight with this one; it had a single handed sword and was in a blood fuelled haze, even though they acted highly irrational they were still very deadly. As it neared him he rushed forward, ready to carry out his plan, but as he raised his blade to block the attack the orc's head exploded in a shower of blood and gore, the sudden death of the creature took the captain by surprise, especially in the manner in which it was carried out. When he looked forward he saw that a massive hammer head had taken the place of the orc's original head, he could see blue smoke erupt from the back of the hammer and illuminate the rest of the weapon, but as he looked up to its wielder he was shocked beyond words.

Standing before him was a giant of creatures, thick red and black robes donned the creatures massive form, he could not make out its face but saw its large black horns and lengthy muzzle that was illuminated by the two braziers that sat on its shoulders. It looked into the captains eyes for a moment, he felt so weak and insignificant right now, he had seen cave trolls before, but when he looked into these eyes he felt like he was in the presence of a great being rather than a large animal, the beast turned to the left and struck down another orc, its head being torn from its shoulders and the rest of its body flew away from the strike. The giant creature didn't turn back towards the captain, instead it searched around for other victims, it was then that the Captain saw that there were no other orcs around, they were all dead, and from some of their corpses he saw a few had been brutally mutilated or decapitated, and he had a fairly good idea the reason for that was.

"All the orcs are dead" stated one of the rangers, the giant creature turned to them and they walked towards it showing no signs that they were shocked or worried about the beast before them.

"Good" came the creatures hard gravelly voice, the men flinched some even gathering together with their weapons to get ready to fend it off, but the elves and giant did not respond to their actions and continued with their discussion. "You two come with me, we may need to help the others, Medlichen, make sure nothing comes across the bridge."

"Yes Shaman, they will never pass this point alive." He replied; the 'Shaman' nodded before turning around and walking at a brisk pace to the other end of the bridge likely to face the other orcs. Medlichen walked towards the human warriors, who appeared to be still staring off towards the shaman, and without bothering to see if they were alright started to ask questions.

"Who is your commander here?" for a moment there was no answer, then one of the soldiers pushed a young human forward, he had scruffy ginger hair and a goatee to match, he looked dumbly at the elf before him and replied.

"I am in command, my name is Ca…" that was as far as he got before he was forced to answer another question.

"How many men do you have under your command?"

"Well, uh, twenty five at the most, but four are wounded."

"Alright, get them together and leave some men here to protect the bridge, we will need to address the town's strength before the main orc force arrives."

"Main orc force, what are you talking about?"

"Don't worry, once my lord deals with the orcs we can discuss the situation in detail, for now do as I say." Captain Trotter was a little annoyed at the elf, he was ordering him around, acting like his command meant nothing, he had questions, such as what was that creature and what he meant by the main orc force. But he knew he wouldn't be able to get anything out of the elf, so he followed his command begrudgingly, he turned to his men and had them follow with him back across the bridge to the village, leaving six of his freshest troops to guard the bridge with Medlichen.

* * *

Back on the battlefield Gildor had dispatched another orc, it head no longer connected to its shoulders, he turn around quickly at the sound of approaching footsteps, he raised his short sword to stop an incoming blow and sunk the other into the offending orc's neck. It gurgled on its own blood before Gildor discarded the body, throwing off the sword atop his own and then pushing with his other to knock the orc to the side and them onto the ground, gazing around quickly he saw that nearly all the orcs have been killed, save the few that were currently being dispatched by the rest of his warriors. He looked towards the bridge and saw Mairne and two other rangers following close behind, they looked no worse for ware, aside from the shaman who seemed to have acquired a little more red for his armour and weapon, he walked up to them and was able to see the bridge had been littered with close to forty orc corpses.

"I suppose they gave you no trouble?" asked Gildor, his question directed at the shaman.

"No, about half of them were dead already; we just cleared out the rest." Replied Mairne, Gildor shook his head, in the short time he had been acquainted with Mairne, he had learnt that the old bull took fighting very seriously as well as chain of command, although he didn't think himself in command he did offer support at times that proved very useful. But when it came to fighting, he fought with all his skill and ferocity, and he did it in an almost tranquil manner that made it disturbing that while killing he showed no emotion, no anger, no delight, no fear, it was like battle and death was something he was very accustomed to. He could only imagine what type of world that he comes from, where death and war were so mundane that even the most savage way of killing someone was not even worth a single emotion; he cleared his thoughts and turned back to the point at hand.

"We did not suffer any losses" said Gildor, he had taken a look around and saw that his men had just finished dealing with the last of the orcs and were now forming up on him; aside from a few cuts they were perfectly fine. "Which is good; but what about the Trestlebridge guard?" asked Gildor.

"Don't know, but I saw that two are heavily wounded and three more are dead, and there seemed to be at least ten bodies out here. But they still have numbers on their side, more than us, that's for sure." Replied Mairne

"Well let's see how many more that is." Gildor looked back to his warriors and the shaman standing before him, with a motion of his hand they followed after him.

* * *

"Are the orcs gone?" cried out a villager.

"Are we going to have to evacuate?" called out another.

"What happened at the Bridge?" yelled out a third.

"People please" called out Nellie Boskins, she had been trying to get the people organized so they could evacuate the village, they had seen the soldiers trying to defend the bridge and were worried, she knew they had every right to be. But a few minutes ago the soldiers had stopped fighting and were coming back towards the town, most of them were bloodied – both in their own blood and the orc's – and exhausted, standing beside her now was Captain Trotter who was trying to assist her in calming the fearful citizens.

"There is no need to be worried, the orcs have been dealt with, assistance from the elves of Lin Giliath has arrived; there is no need to be worried." Stated Captain Trotter, some of the people appeared to be calmer but the fear was still thick and they would likely not calm down for a while. "Please go back to your homes and get some rest, it's still too early to be up and about."

The people did so slowly, still gossiping over the orc raid that was close to overrunning the village, but there were still those who were disbelieving on the fact that there wasn't a chance that the orcs would have overrun the village.

"There's more to this than your letting on, you're hiding something" accused Blacksmith Joseph Thornrose; he was always an aggressive man when it came to keeping the village safe, he would always butt heads with the captain over many different things. Such as the guardsman using his armor without buying it and slacking off while on duty, which was denied firmly by the Captain, but after a raid that nearly wiped out the town after a guardsman had fallen asleep at his post, the blacksmith had gotten the fuel needed to continue slandering the Guard Captain.

"I tell you, there is nothing else for you to know, the orcs are dead and there are no more, now go home" came the heated reply from Trotter, Nellie knew that if this argument escalated then the people wouldn't have to worry about not getting any sleep, their shouting contest would see to that.

"Liar, I can see it on your face, something's going on over there and you don't want anyone to see." Nellie looked to the captain and saw something she never thought she would see on his face, worry; there was something that he wasn't telling them. Joseph must have caught on to this and continued his rant "Hah! I knew it, so what's really going on, what happened out there?"

"Joseph" the calm and low voice of Captain Trotter said to them; it had lost its lividness "Get in your house."

"Not until you tell us what…"

"Please, get in your house" Captain Trotters tone was no longer calm, but to their surprise it was not angry or heated, but pleading "Get inside and lock your doors, and no matter what, do not come out."

He looked at the blacksmith with nothing but deathly seriousness in his eyes, a seriousness they had all come to know as that something bad was likely to happen, one by one the remaining villagers started to rush to their homes. Soon it was only Trotter and Nellie left in the middle of the town square, light was beginning to creep over the Nan Wathren Mountains, dawn was here and was beginning to light up for the coming day, Trotter turned around and faced the bridge. Nellie looked at the Captain and studied him, she could see his gaze focused on the bridge, his hand grasping his sword tightly and… shaking? He was shaking, Nellie looked at him worried, what had he seen that warranted such concern?

"Captain, what's wrong?" she asked quietly, whatever could drive fear into the heart of this man was something they all should be worried about, her mind began thinking of possible reasons for that fear. A cave troll was among the orcs, but the battle was over so then there must have been no troll, they lost many men, but they have lost many before this was no different, an orc army was approaching, no impossible - there's no way that would happen.

"There was something that was with the elves." Said Trotter, Nellie looked at him oddly; she could see his apprehension as clear as day, whoever this person he saw was what scared him.

"Come now Captain, I'm sure that whoever this someone may be is completely harmless." She tried to reassure him but he didn't show any signs that her words had reached him

"I didn't say 'someone'" he said low, nervousness working its way into his tone, he looked at her and she could see a grim face staring down at her "It was 'something' far more deadly than an orc, and a lot bigger."

She knew now that whatever he saw was something very bad, and if it was worse than an orc then they were in trouble, she had never seen him like this before, he was scared, completely and utterly scared, and the only fact he was so composed and not rolling on the ground was because he was the captain of the guard.

Before she could ask what it was he saw she heard frantic cries of alarm coming from the bridge, she turned to see what was causing such uproar among the guard, she saw the guards arguing with the elves, they were having a very heated argument. It looked like they were trying to stop them from entering, or more like stop 'something' else from entering, soon she saw another elf push his way through them and berate them, she didn't notice it at first but she knew the elf that had just appeared. Gildor Inglorion, he was an elven noble from Rivendell and said to be Lord Elrond of Rivendell's advisor, she had not expected to see him here, she thought he was leading a small band of elves over the mountains, and helping any refugees seeking to leave the North Downs. She was inclined to rush over and scold those guards for refusing entrance to the elven noble, after all he was a saviour and protector of these lands and its inhabitants, but then she saw the real reason behind their hesitation to let them pass. In the midst of the elves was a giant of a creature, for a few second she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her but she knew they weren't now, it was huge, both in height and girth, standing over two and a half meters tall and at least a meter in girth from shoulder to shoulder. Its entire form was covered in thick red robes and dark metal, which were interlocked together with metal chains, she almost thought the beast was imprisoned within it, but what caught her eyes were the large pauldrons sitting atop its shoulders.

Massive metal pauldrons sat chained to his shoulders, they would have appeared to be normal armour but there was a distinct difference that made that apparent it wasn't so, the insides of the pauldrons appeared to be hollowed out and a small furnace ranged within. Above the opening was a piece of stone that appeared to be floating, it looked like molten slag, and the only reason it remained where it be was because of the four chains that kept it from what appeared to be blown away. Only its head could been seen, the rest of its form concealed under the thick armor and robes that it wore, its head resembled that of a bull, horns, elongated muzzle, and it appeared to have a long braided beard that flowed down behind a small pendulum that hung from a solid metal jaw clamp. Now she realized why the captain was so scared, she may be only able to make out a few details about its appearance but she saw enough, it was a huge monstrous creature, big enough to match even the smallest of trolls in height and likely strength if the thickness of its arms were to go off anything.

Why was something like this travelling with the elves? Was it some type of mercenary from a land far away, she had heard that orcs would work with men if they paid them, but even so that was with barbarians like pirates and the desert people of the far east. But with elves, no this wasn't right, the elves would never work with something so inhuman, so why was it here, it couldn't be a prisoner, it wasn't restrained and looked like it could escape and kill everyone at any moment, so what was it. Then she noticed it walking along side Gildor and another elf, was it their ally, but this made no sense, who was this creature, how did it earn their respect, before she knew it they were a few feet away from her and she heard the sound of metal hissing. She saw Captain Trotter unsheathing his sword and resting it by his side, she saw a grim yet serious expression on his face, he was prepared to defend himself and her if whatever that thing was attacked, and every part of her told herself that it would attack as soon as it reached them.

"Nellie Boskins, it's been too long; how have you been?" said Gildor with a smile, but it was not met with reply or acknowledgement, her eyes were still focused on the Shaman, Gildor turned to Mairne and realized that they have never seen the like of his race before. "Ah, my apologies, Nellie Boskins, this is Mairne Ragetotem, High Shaman of the Earthen Ring"

He introduced the creature before her, Mairne was his name and with a respectful nod he introduced himself, but she was still frozen on the spot, she didn't know what was going on right now, Gildor acted like he had known this creature for a while now, as did his warriors. They all appeared to have no problem with the creature's presence what-so-ever; she couldn't really understand how the elven noble could have formed any kind of friendship with this Mairne. Before she could do anything Captain Trotter moved forward his sword pointed towards Mairne, Gildor was shocked and his men were as well, soon all of the guard had their weapons drawn and ready to use them against the Shaman if needed.

"Stop!" shouted Gildor, his voice commanding and chiding towards the warriors that had raised their arms, he couldn't allow them to attack the shaman, for not just his safety but their own, he could command the elements with a mere wave of his hand. And that elemental, Ignia, was a loose cannon, if she was enraged she would kill everyone here in an instant, though the shaman would reign her in, her mere presence could kill someone if not hurt them severely. "He is no threat to any of you; he has come here to aid us."

"But… what is that thing?" Nellie nearly yelled, never in her life has she seen anything such as it before "How can you be sure we can trust it?"

"Because it saved eight people from the orcs in Kingfell, and helped us reach here through Nan Wathren." Said Gildor, those two pieces of information shocked them, the latter more-so; they knew Nan Wathren was a stronghold full of orcs. Passing through it is said to be impossible without being seen, even the stealthiest ranger could never hope to pass through those woods undetected, but they said he helped them get through that deadly pass, how? He may be large and imposing but when you had a hundred orcs at your throat then that doesn't really matter in the long run.

"You came through Nan Wathren?" stated a shocked Captain Trotter; he was given a nod from the Elven noble as a response before a verbal conformation.

"Yes, now put down your weapons, this battle is far from over, more orcs are on their way."

* * *

They decided to retire inside the Boskins' estate to discuss the impending orc attack, Gildor along with Medlichen were speaking with Trotter and Nellie, after they had told them in detail of the impending attack they were shocked beyond words. An army of over a two hundreds orcs were going to be descending on them, close to seventy orcs had attacked the village thirty minutes ago and now three times as many were on their way here, they had lost over half their men in the first attack, how where they going to survive with only forty men, that was including the elves alongside them. Nellie Boskins was slumped down in her chair unable to fully bear the weight of the news that was just given to her, her town had faced many hardships in the past and persevered, but an orc army that was something they would have no chance at defending against. Captain Trotter however held his ground and only showed his shock through the features on his face, he was a trained soldier he wouldn't break down just because death was coming their way; he took in a quick calming breath before asking the important question.

"When will they arrive?"

"Noon at the earliest" said Gildor, his tone grim and his mannerisms just as bad, he didn't like the fact they had a few hours to prepare for what was likely their final stand.

"How can we hope to fight off such a force, we would be outnumbered five to one at least; what hope do we have against such a force." Said Nellie, unable to hide her fear of the coming battle, she was supposed to be keeping these people safe and now they were likely all going to die.

"I have sent word to the Rangers of Evendium, they should be able to send reinforcements" said Gildor.

"I'm afraid not my lord" everyone turned to the owner of the voice, Gildor recognized the woman immediately, Gwesgylliel, his right hand and one of his best rangers under his command. But where he would be happy to have her here for the coming battle he couldn't help but feel distressed by her words.

"Gwesgylliel, it is good you have returned, but what do you mean by 'I'm afraid not'?" asked Gildor quickly

"Calanglad does not have enough time to gather the rangers and then send them here, he can at best get them to the Bree-lands as the orcs begin their invasion, but even then they will likely not make it in time." She reported to her lord.

"Damn it" cursed Gildor, another problem, without any aid from the rangers of the north they were in trouble, they didn't have enough men to fight off that many orcs. "It would appear we are on our own, we don't have enough men to fight the orcs off; so we need something that could even the odds."

"We could use the bridge as a choke point, keep the orcs from getting into the town, their numbers would count for nothing then." Said Trotter, but Gildor shook his head.

"No, then it would be a battle of attrition, one which the orcs would surely win."

"We could ambush them before they arrive, try and kill as many of them before they can make it to Trestlebridge." Suggested Medlichen, but it was Gwesgylliel who shook her head to the plan.

"Though it may work, we run the risk of those sent out being killed and weakening our already flimsy defence." Said Gwesgylliel, her voice plain as she took apart the plan and showed them its flaws "Also there are few places nearby that could offer us a good point to ambush the orcs, the area is too flat and there is no high ground for archers to use that can be abandoned if they need to retreat."

"But the plan could still work, but in a different context." Said Gildor, he was musing on that for a while, he turned to the Captain and asked "Tell me, how many archers do you have?"

"Nine, but two are wounded, why? What do you have in mind?" asked Trotter.

"I have a plan on how we can thin their numbers and maybe bring their numbers down to a more manageable size." He said, a small smirk working its way onto his face, he turned to Medlichen and said "Go, get Mairne; we're going to need him for this."

Medlichen nodded and charged out the door, but when Gildor had said that name the other occupants had different emotions covering their faces, Nellie was worried about having that creature in her house, while the Captain looked livid of the idea of bringing it into the house of the woman he was meant to be protecting, and Gwesgylliel had no idea who this Mairne was and therefore had an inquisitive look on her face.

"Captain? Who is this Mairne?" Gwesgylliel asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Don't worry you will know soon enough" he said, an amused grin on his face, now she was very curious about who this Mairne was.

* * *

Mairne was sitting on a small mount near the bridge, he was overlooking the gorge before him and was resting before the battle, he did not need to be part of the meeting; he was content on letting the elf noble work out a strategy to repel the orcs. He knew that whatever plan they came up with they would have him on the front line cutting a swath of death and destruction in his wake, so he was content on waiting for them to finish and he would be informed of the plan and offer his own advice on it should he need to. For now he was meditating and trying to focus his energy onto the battle ahead, but he was having some difficulty, ever since he took his seat he had to deal with the clanking of steel, chainmail grinding against solid metal and sword being sharpened behind him. The guards of this village were pacing behind him; if he was a little more cautious he would have been slightly apprehensive about keeping his back to them, but he knew if they attacked he could defend himself and disarm them without harm coming to them or him.

But the two elves that were sitting quietly nearby were keeping an eyes on the guards, watching their movements like a hawk and their hands on their bows just in case they need to use it; they knew if the Shaman was hurt they would likely be killed. Either by the approaching orcs or that short tempered elemental, and either case were very undesirable to any of them, so they would make sure that the human's didn't do anything that would get them all killed, they were also talking to one another about the event that transpired last night.

"What do you think he is?" asked the first elf, his hand wrapped around the bow and his other ready to quickly draw an arrow should one of the guard make a mistake.

"I don't know, but I have a feeling he is some sort of sorcerer." Said the second, like his partner he too had his weapon ready.

"Possible, but did you see how he talked to that stone creature last night, and that fiery spirit." Asked the first, taking his glance from one guard to another, making sure that they don't try anything while they aren't looking.

"Yes, but do you remember what Mairne said, he was a 'Shaman of the Earthen Ring', so whatever a shaman is, it likely involves him being involved with those creatures on a daily basis."

"What makes you say that?"

"Didn't you notice when he talked to the stone giant that he spoke in a different language, one that it seemed to understand." He said "He walked up to it and spoke with it like a person who speaks with nobility, he has experience with dealing with things like that, and that fire one, seemed to a very good friend of his."

"Yeah and also that thing said that his kind were extinct, since the War of Wrath during the First Age." Murmured the first, his voice low, as to not alert any unwanted ears from listening

"Yeah, from what I can see, he can do almost anything when it comes to fire and the wind, light people on fire, cut them down with the wind and use an air current to lift him and others off the ground. It's incredible"

"I wonder what else he is capable of."

Just then they noticed Medlichen walking past the building they were resting against, they quickly stood at attention and waited for their superior to speak, he turned to them and saw their weapons drawn; he was mildly startled to see their weapons drawn. He turned to the Shaman who was on the mound and the humans below who were pacing around like dogs on a chain, ready to attack when their master lets them off the leash, he saw their weapons were also drawn and by how they were acting he saw they wanted only one thing.

"What's happening here?" he asked, but it was evident it was demand rather than a question.

"Nothing sir, just keeping an eye on the Shaman" Said the first, Medlichen nodded, he turned back to the shaman, he didn't seem to be worried about the six guardsman who were pacing about a few meters behind him, he supposed he could defend himself if needed. But it was a good thing that those two rangers where here with him, the last thing they needed was their secret weapon getting injured and letting that thing on his shoulders run loose, he turned back to the rangers.

"Very good, make sure that when he is not with us he is not harmed or attacked, he is too valuable to be injured." Order Medlichen, they nodded in understanding, before he turned and strode towards Mairne.

He passed the guards and climbed up the hill towards the shaman, who seemed to be in some form of meditative trance, his eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, it looked like he was trying to calm himself before the coming battle.

"Mairne, can you hear me?" he asked quietly, the Shaman's eyes opened slowly as he looked towards the elven ranger.

"Is everything alright?" asked Mairne

"Yes, Lord Inglorion wishes to see you, he says that they have a plan and you're a part of It." said Medlichen, though his opinion of the shaman was not as high as most of the other warriors they had a mutual respect for one another when it came to combat and doing what needs to be done. A shocking growth from where he had nothing but contempt for Mairne, but now it was much more civil between the two; his opinion on the Shaman seemed to still be changing, ever since last night all the elves have been looking at him in a different light.

"I see" Mairne replied, rising to his hooves and stretching his muscles, which caused some of the guard to go rigid in preparation for a fight. But a single glare from the elf forced them to lower their weapons grudgingly. "Lead the way."

Mairne descended down the slope and passed the guards without showing any signs that he acknowledged their presence, he had dealt with Alliance soldiers sneering at him as well as threatening to attack him in the past, these men were nothing like them, so he had even less to worry about. He could hear them murmuring under their breath about him, the words 'beast' and 'animal' could be heard, but he ignored them with the skill of a man who has dealt with things far more annoying that meaningless insults and slander.

As he marched through the town towards where Gildor had set up a small command post he was receiving some very shocked stares from the townsfolk, most were staring at him with their mouths agape, but there were others, a blacksmith it would seem, that had openly screamed and ran away. Mairne paid them no attention as he followed after Medlichen, who seemed to be taking in the peoples shocked expressions with some amusement, he would never understand this man before him, he was simply a person that was difficult to portray. He looked around the town and saw that there were some similarities between the architecture used by humans in his world; he also saw a large burnt down building that was separated into a small building block on the other side of the main street. The main street was fairly large, around twenty to thirty foot in length and was nearly perfectly straight until it reach the end of the village block were it jolted to the left for a few feet before straightening up again and leading to the edge of the village.

Soon they reached the house where Gildor was using as a headquarters; it was a simple single story stone house that would likely be owned by a well off villager possibly the mayor or chief of Trestlebridge, Medlichen opened the door and stepped through. The door was made to fit humans through with ease, so Mairne had to crouch down and enter sideways to enter the homestead, when he squeezed through the doorway he entered a large living room – with an adjacent kitchen area and bedroom on the far end of the living room – with five people inside, Gildor, Nellie Boskins and Captain Trotter were standing around the table speaking with one another and off to the side was another person, an elven woman he did not fully recognize at first.

"Once the orcs inside the kill zone have been dealt with we can move on to the others, we divide and conquer, separate them from their main body and then tear them down piece by piece." Said Gildor, instructing the others on what his plan was, Medlichen approached and when Gildor saw him he turned to the door to take in the form of who he requested. "Mairne, good, I need your help with my plan for this afternoon."

Mairne approached the table and took in the people that surrounded it, the two humans took a step back as he approached, they were still afraid of him, and the other person, a female elf took in the Shaman's presence with shocked interest, he remembered her a few days before as the ranger that had arrived in Lin Giliath when he spoke with Gildor for the first time. He stood before the large table displaying a map of the town of Trestlebridge, he saw the positions of the buildings and the terrain around the village, he took note of several areas that seemed to be seal off areas on the map, and he could see troop placements across the entire map, now he saw how this battle was to be waged.

"I see where you are going with this, a very good plan" stated Mairne

"Yes, but there is one problem that I need to address before it is ready" he said, looking towards the shaman as if saying that he is the only one who can rectify the problem.

"What is it that you need of me?" asked Mairne, Gildor looked to the map and pointed to a part of the town that seemed to be divided into two separate sections by a black line.

"I wish to know how good are you at controlling the earth as you are at fire." Said Gildor, a wide grin plastered across his face, Mairne looked at him for a short moment, before he replied with a similar grin of his own.

"Not as good as fire, but it is a close second."

* * *

The plan had been set all that was required was for the shaman to start using his power to set up a barricade, his abilities to control the elements were what was going to win them this battle, but there were other things he could do that would aid them in this battle. Shamans were not just the embodiment of elemental power that could be used to destroy an enemy, they were so much more; they could empower and heal anyone with a wave of their hand, though Mairne was able to heal a person who was mortally wounded but even then, he was no master in the art of Restoration. He focused his powers more on the control of the elements and the art of enchantment, both in his own weapons and onto others, and at his age he had mastered these two arts to levels above many other shamans', and because of that he could empower a small army with his enchantments along with their weapons.

Just like last time as he walked through the town the people gave them a wide girth, in awe of the beast that walked past them, some shouted out their thoughts of what was the thing that walked before them, but Mairne paid them no heed. He neared the town centre, passing a large bonfire that had burnt itself out the night before, and it was then that the attention of the beast began to become less than hospitable, people began shouting and cursing to the elves and to the Guard Captain who trudged behind the colossal beast.

"What is that thing?"

"Why is it in the Village?"

"Get that thing out of here!"

"Kill it!"

These were but a few of the demands and questions that arouse from the crowd, he did not care in particular what they wanted or demanded, he was here to do a his duty and even if they did not care for it he would continue on his course none the less. Eventually they were at the centre of the town, eliciting many pleas from the crowd to make the beast leave, but their hopes that he was leaving were not met, soon he stood in the middle of the village square facing towards the south where a few houses stood. They watched as he held his ground and spread his arms wide, they could hear his deep rumbling voice whispering out indecipherable words, they didn't know what he was doing but from what they could actually discern it looked as if he was praying, but that thought was cast aside with what happened next. The ground began to quake, they could feel the very earth beneath then began to shake and rumble, cracks began to flow across the dirt like small black snakes, coiling in random directions and going everywhere without control, cries of alarm could be heard across the whole town as the intensity of the quake continued to increase.

Ahead of them stood the immovable shaman, his hands quaking as if trying to lift some imaginary object, around his hooves the ground cracked and broke apart, small chunks of dirt began to rise into the air and float around the Tauren. The towns' people were shocked beyond anything at the sudden display of power the creature seems to be harnessing, to them: it would seem it could make the earth shake, but this was only the precursor to the call he was casting, soon they saw the earth in front of them shake and shoot up. A large wall of earth shot up from the ground, it rose over fifteen feet into the air before it slowly came to a halt, the wall extended from one end of the village to the other, completely sealing off the southern side of the village from the northern side, the Shaman turned to the shocked towns people and even a surprised Gildor.

"You didn't have to make it that big." He stated, marvelling at the sheer size of the earth wall before him, those Shamans really know how to do things extravagantly. Nellie, Trotter and even Gwesgylliel were shocked that he was so nonchalant with the display of power, had he seen him do such feats before.

"True, but sometimes bigger is better." replied Mairne, his voice bringing out the villagers from their shocked stupor, most sent fearful glances at the creature that had somehow risen the earth from beneath their feet with his power, but there were others who were not cowed, some were angry.

"He's sealed us in!" shouted one man; it was this that had set off the rest of the villagers.

"He's trapped us here; he's going to kill us!" Screamed a frighten woman

"What are you doing? Guard! Kill that thing!" shouted a man from the crowd to the shocked guards, they looked at one another and pushed their way through the crowd. Gildor and his men moved to intercept them; they did not draw their sword or show any signs of hostility, they just stood in front of them to stop them from reaching the Shaman.

"Get out of the way, we have to stop that thing!" shouted Guardsman Otley, glaring death at the Tauren behind the elves.

"You will not harm him, he is under my command and therefore one of my warriors, you will treat him with the respect he deserves." Stated Gildor, the people were shocked and outraged that he would defend the creature that had divided their village into two different sections. "Besides, I was the one who order him to do this."

Another gasp of surprise went up around the village; the elven noble had ordered him to seal off the town, why had he done this? Why had he sealed them inside their own village? It was then that Nellie Boskins stepped forward; even though she was anxious she hid her worry and concern well. She looked over to the wall and shaman, still astonished at the ability he possessed to create a wall such at that, before she turned to her fellow villagers and addressed them with no apparent apprehension or worry in her tone.

"People please, there is no need to be concerned!" she called out to them, but another group of outbursts from the villagers showed they did not believe her words, she waited for calm to ensue over the crowd before she continued. "The wall was made to keep the village safe, it is to protect everyone."

"Protect us!" shouted one man in disbelief.

"How is cutting out village in half meant to keep us safe!" called out another, Nellie knew she couldn't lie to them, if she did it would cause only more problems, she had to tell them the truth.

"The village was attacked earlier this morning" she stated, murmuring broke out through the crowd, some pointing and accusing the shaman, she continued without waiting for them to silence themselves. "We have learnt from Lord Inglorion that a large orc force will be attacking the village midday today."

Gasps and cries of alarm broke out from the crowd, but she shouted over them.

"We have sealed off a section of the town for your own safety, so when the orcs attack you will be safely on the other side; all the women, the children and the elderly will be taken to the other side of the wall for their own safety. And if you wish to leave for the Bree-land, than you are free to do so."

"Wait, what about the rest of us!" cried out one of the men of the village.

"You will remain here to help repel the orcs; we need more warriors to hold them back." Stated Gildor, angry outburst were met by his words, but he knew that was what would have happened, he knew that if Nellie had answered she would have taken the backlash at such an suggestion. So if he acted like the bad guy she could maintain her appearance of a just and good hearted town leader, he was as much a politician as a warrior, they needed her to be able to maintain control of her people in order for them to work together. And the best way to do that is make their leader look better than the ones your fighting alongside, so if she looked like the good guy then the people will listen and flock to her, a good plan, let's hope it's works out.

"People please, you are not going to be entering the fighting lest you wish to; your part in this battle will be the safest, you will not face any orcs in a direct confrontation." Nellie said, the crowd quieted down and looked relieved that they weren't going to be charging in like fodder so soften up the orcs. "But first the woman and children must be taken to safety."

"Yeah and how do we do that?" Said one particular woman, it was then that Nellie was stumped, how where they going to get them all over the wall, they did have ladders but that would still take a while for them all to get across. Then from behind them they heard the sound of earth shaking, and just as they turned they saw a large rectangular slab start to jut out from the ground, then another formed over that one but was less long than the one beneath it, soon another began to form above that one. Eventually more of these slabs began to form and it began to take shape, stairs, he was creating a large set of earthen stairs for them to climb across, they were wide and large, perfect for getting a great many people across in a short amount of time.

"Uh, up the stairs" said Nellie, almost caught out that she had no idea what she was doing, the Shaman stood beside the steps with his hands folded over his chest, waiting for them to escort the civilians over before he would remove the stairs.

* * *

Soon the people were on their way, going up the stairs and onto the other side of the wall, nearly a hundred people had to cross over the wall before it could be removed, and standing near the base of the stairs was Mairne. He stood there immobile like a statue and did not look at the villagers, instead he chose to keep his eyes shut and relax as best he could in his current position, the people sent him wary looks as they passed him, only a few children seemed to be unfazed by his presence and looked at him in wonder. After a short half an hour all the people had crossed the wall and Mairne removed the stairs, he walked over to Gildor who was in deep discussion with Nellie and Trotter, they took noticed of him and when he was close they continued.

"How many of these people know how to use a bow or sword?" asked Gildor

"A few, some are retired from the guard, they may be a bit rusty but they can still use a sword, but for everyone else, I have no idea." Said Trotter

"How many of them are former guards?" asked Gildor

"About fourteen" Gildor mused on this, they would need more muscle when they needed to fight the orcs on the ground, they would be very helpful.

"Alright, get them together and anyone else, get them into some practice, we need them to freshen up before the battle begins."

"What about the rest of them?" asked Captain Trotter

"Don't worry we'll get them ready" reassured the elven noble.

* * *

Mairne observed the Guardsman of the town help sharpen the their retired counterparts skills, that along with train the twenty so called warriors that were currently living within the village, he had seen their skill and was not surprised that they were above average. When facing constant attack you had to be skilled with a blade or a bow, if not you were likely dead or dying on the battlefield, he had known that fact for most of his life, and it was those facts that kept him from ending up like so many other would be warriors from his past. While they worked on their swordsmanship the elves gathered the other remaining men in the village and were either teaching them how to use a bow or telling them how they were to fit in with their plan, they had a few hours before the orcs were scheduled to arrive so they had time to prepare.

Eventually he was joined by Gildor, who took a seat next to him on the mound, he looked over the town and Mairne could see he was still calculating the outcome of the battle, even though they were outnumbered by two to one, which was not accurate as two thirds of their fighting force would be nowhere near the combat zone. The plan they had developed was good, but there was not much room for error, if they didn't pull this off correctly everyone here would be killed, the needed everything to go according to plan or they were dead, and even if they did everything right there was still one factor that could bring it all crashing down, there were more of the enemy.

"I doubt we will stand much chance against the orcs." Said Gildor plainly

"Giving up already, I thought you were optimistic about this battle."

"Optimism can only take you so far" he replied in a grim tone "Even you must know that."

"I do, I have led many warriors into battle before, against insurmountable odds, and in some cases inevitable defeat, and when all seems to be hopeless and I feel like giving into despair, I didn't hesitate to push forward." Said Mairne, his voice firm and unwavering, Gildor looked to him, unsure to the meaning behind his words. "As long as there is a chance that is all that is needed, sometimes you need to forgo caution and disregard safety to do what must be done. Because if your sacrifice can prevent an even greater one than you must be willing to make it without hesitation or regret; for if you don't others will be forced to make it"

Gildor understood his words, the needs of the many out way the needs of the few, this was not just about winning, it was about making sure that the orcs didn't cause more harm, and this is what this battle was about. Not for victory, they knew that already, this was to protect the innocent and make sure that they were not claimed by the orcs; even if it required them to sacrifice their lives to do so then they would without question, for it was their duty and they would see it through.

"Fine words Mairne, fine words." Replied Gildor, slowly he stood up and beckoned the shaman to follow "Come on, we have a battle to win."

* * *

It was midday, the sun was at its zenith and the heat was at its peak, there was little sound save for that of nature, the birds chirped, the leaves tussled with the wind and the waters churned far beneath the Trestlespan Bridge, and of the sound of unnatural rumbling. The ground would quake as something approached from the north; great clouds of dust revealed its approach, nothing could be seen that accompanied the sound and the display, not until a few minutes later when black shapes began to take form over the horizon, which grew in size as the rumbling did in intensity.

Soon the natural sound of the world was replaced with a more ugly and unpleasant one, the sound of metal grinding against metal, unintelligent growling and chanting, and the identities of those who it comes from followed soon after. Orcs and goblins marched in an unorganized force towards the great chasm of Cirith Núr, seeking to cross its and lay waist to the town on the other side, over two hundred of the beasts marched towards the massive wooden bridge that separate them from their defenseless prey. They knew that there was nothing that could stop them from sacking the town and then moving into the Bree-lands, not even the rangers could stop their advance, soon they came to a halt and at the forefront of the orc army was a black and red skinned orc, its entire body covered in armor save for its chest which remain bare. In its hands were an axe and shield, both crude in appearance but well made. But this orc was not just any type of orc, it was Uruk-hai, a creature strong and bigger than those other orcs, he was a new breed that would overshadow all other orc-kind, they were better than their predecessors for good reason, and this one was even greater, he was Urro; a warrior from Carn Dûm.

He was powerful and commanded respect from the other orcs, but it was not just them he commanded, and trolls, two large behemoths stood to his left and right, Gorthorog is what their species is known as among the troll-folk. They were once the Witch-Kings greatest warriors before his departure from Angmar, and since then they have hid in the shadow of Angmar, guarding the ancient fortress of Carn Dûm and preventing anyone from trespassing on their former lord's seat of power. These two giants were near indistinguishable from one another, the only thing that could tell one apart from the other was the color of the armor that covered their torso and arms – one shined like silver and the other gleamed like gold – they were known as Târlug and Tárlakh, standing over eleven feet tall these two monster wielded two large mallets in their hands. In one hand was a large metal war mallet, it was large and appeared to be finely crafted, but in the other hand was a contrasting weapon, a large wooden trunk that had pieces of metal bolted to the surface, they wielded each in one hand.

Urru looked to the bridge and saw the bodies of many orcs and some humans, they littered the area around the bridge and along it; he could see none that were alive, all where dead and it seemed that everything else was as well. With his axe above him he ordered the orcs forward, quickly they cross the bridge, more bodies came into view, dozens of orcs and men's corpses littered the walkway and dried coagulated blood stuck to the soles of their shoes, but all they cared about was getting into the fight with something a bit more lively. But when they entered the village all they found were the dead bodies of many orcs and several humans, that is all they could see, far off they could make out a large dirt mount that separated half the town and another that run along the middle of a street at an intersection. He advanced, but not at a quick pace, he was no fool, there was no way that this measly few could have gotten through, they weren't anything special just a bunch of orcs from the mountains, but the scene before him says otherwise. But he found no bodies of villagers, the orc do take prisoners, but only on the rarest of occasions, so why where all these soldiers dead and no villagers, had the rest fled? That was what he was thinking.

He neared the centre of the town, Târlug and Tárlakh following close behind him along with dozens of warriors, and he noticed the mound he saw from the bridge was no mound, but a large solid wall of earth, he turned to his warriors to see them still filing in across the bridge. They knew there was no battle so why bother rushing in, then he noticed something, near the main road were four strange totems that glowed a deep red, he saw them pulsing as the orcs passed by them, how did he not notice them earlier. Then without warning the totems erupted in flames, fire engulfed the entire road and the orcs and goblins unlucky enough to be to close, over twenty of them were caught in the blast, Urru growled, this was a trap. He looked on and saw over eighty warriors were here with him, more than enough to deal with anything that showed up, then ten of them dropped, numerous arrows lodged in their corpses, he looked to the houses and saw dozens of archers on the roofs and in the second story buildings firing off arrows into the horde below.

"Kill them all!" Urru shouted to his warriors, they roared at the challenge, charging in without regard for their lives, it was then that the doors of the houses burst forth and warriors poured out and met the orcs on the field. Urru would have charged in with his fellow kind but was drawn to the earth wall when over a dozen arrows were sent hurtling towards him and the trolls, he raised his shield to save himself being killed by three arrows, and the trolls raised their massive arms to shield their faces, they weren't fools -they knew how to fight. Then from the wall leapt down their attacker, seventeen elves landed on the ground and faced them, even if there were twice as many they still wouldn't survive against the two trolls and him, just as Urro was about to order the trolls to kill them, Târlug was struck and thrown off his feet. Turning in shock to the downed troll he saw a large war hammer embedded in Târlug chest piece, he was still alive but had the wind knocked out of him, he turned back when he heard a loud crash at the wall, and there before him stood a creature he had never laid eyes on before.

* * *

Mairne had just knocked down one of the trolls and now he was charging towards the next one, he knew that he couldn't allow these beast free roam across the battlefield, he needed to end them personally while the Guardsman and elves deal with the orcs and goblins. Mairne approached the troll quickly; he may not have fought against these creatures before but he had fought against Vrykul, all he needed to do was avoid those mauls and strike them in their vulnerable spots, right in the noggin. Tárlakh raised his wooden mallet above his head and swung it down to the approaching shaman, Mairne glanced up to the weapon and quickly sidestepped to the left, rearing back his hand he punched the beast in its unprotected gut, the troll lurched forward slightly. Just enough for Mairne to bash his shield into its jaw, the troll jerked back violently, dropping its wooden club in the process, and covered it face as it cried out in pain, but as it flailed around, it send a blind swing towards the shaman, unable to duck under the attack Mairne raised his shield and blocked the massive maul.

Mairne was thrown from his hooves and onto his back a few meters away, he groaned as he hit the ground and rolled to dissipate some of the energy from the swing, he looked back towards the troll he struck in the jaw to see it recovering – both from its discomfort and its weapon – and moving toward him. Turning he saw the other troll was starting to rise, he saw his hammer still imbedded in the trolls chest piece, he knew that fighting two would be difficult and since he was limited in using his powers he had to keep them close to him without them running off while on fire. Raising his free hand he called for his weapon, he felt the familiar pull of the titan steel that Stonerender was composed of, he heard the quick footsteps of the troll drawing closer to him, he spared only a glance as he kept trying to draw his weapon free, soon the sound of metal grinding against metal was heard and his weapon freed itself and flew to its master.

As it flew towards Mairne's grasp the troll had swung its massive club towards the shaman's, it approached his right hand side, at his weapon journeyed towards him so did the trolls weapon, then the weapon connected. Stonerender now in Mairne's hand, crackling with energy, he swung his elemental imbued weapon towards the even larger one, just as the club was about to strike it was met by another force, it was like a bullet hitting a cannon ball, but the bullet had hit it all the harder. The troll's club was knocked back and so too was the troll, the club was nearly broken in two, a large chunk of the club where Stonerender struck had been reduced to splinters, the trolls staggered back a few steps, but while it did the other troll was on its feet and running towards Mairne with malicious intent.

* * *

Gildor was fighting for dear life against this strange orc, it almost resembled a man more than an orc; it was very dangerous, it could match him in skill and was difficult to wound or hit, even though he knew some orcs had a shred of intelligence this one was on a whole other level. It could actually deflect his attacked and respond with an effective counter, which was bad for Gildor, he wasn't armed for long stand offs, he had two short sword for the single purpose of killing a target quickly before moving onto another. All around him he could hear the din of battle, he and his men had left Mairne to deal with the two trolls, even though he was disinclined about leaving him to fight those two monstrosities, but the shaman was adamant that he could hold them at bay and maybe even defeat them.

Dodging an attack from his left he doubled back to make some space between him and the orc, he knew if he tried to block a blow he would be left open to for him to either bashed in by the orc's shield or foot, and with how things were going that was the last thing he needed. The orc charged and raised its axe high and delivered it down toward the elven noble, odd coming from a creature that didn't seem so reckless, Gildor sidestepped to the left, the axe hit the ground hard and left the back of the orcs neck wide open. Gildor raised his right blade over his head and brought it down quickly to sever the beast's head from its shoulders, but he was not met with that result, his sword met the crude shield on the orcs left arm, it had raised its shield over the back of its head to block the blow quickly and effectively, Gildor was surprised by this, so surprised that he nearly missed the axe veering towards his right side. The orc had planned this, he knew that Gildor would dodge to the left and then strike at his neck with his right blade, when it was blocked by his shield he would swing his axe to the elven noble's unprotected right side, in a desperate attempt to save himself Gildor reversed the grip on the sword in his left hand and dashed it under his extended right arm.

His blade met the shaft of the axe – just below the axe head – but it wasn't enough to stop the weapon from digging a wound into his side, had he been a second to slow or any weaker than the axe head would have gone deeper than half an inch into side. A small trickle of blood flowed out from between the wound and the metal, lucky for Gildor it was only able to cut into the flesh, Gildor was in a difficult position, he needed to get away from the orc before he dug the metal any deeper into his side. But before he could act the orc did, jerking his shield up he knocked the sword up and away from his neck, and as he straightened himself quickly he twisted towards Gildor and his shield coming in to bash him, Gildor could do nothing but wait for the hit. When it did connect Gildor was knocked off his feet and onto the ground the side of his chest burning with intense pain from the side of the shield that struck him, he could recall a stabbing pain just below his armpit, then he remembered the shield had four tooth-like barbs on their sides.

Dealing with the pain as best he could, which was making it difficult for him to use his right arm without his entire side aching, he looked up to the orc who was advancing on him ready to end their fight, its axe raised high and a snarl of satisfaction. The axe fell toward him, ready to split his head in twain, raising both his swords to stop the attack, the weapons connected and Gildor grunted in pain and effort as his side burned and his arms protested respectively, but he was able to stop the axe a few inches from his skull. The orc growl in indignation that its victim was fighting back, Gildor only grimaced at what he did next, the orc raised its back and went to slam it into Gildor's stomach, seeing the intent Gildor acted and defended himself as best he could.

The shield shot forward and Gildor's leg shot up to stop the shield from connected, his foot planted on the side of the shield and forcing it to a stop, another grunt of pain from Gildor side showed that he couldn't use his right leg either, the orc pushed down harder with its weapon and shield, trying for either one to connect. As the orc leaned closer to the trapped elf he didn't noticed that one leg was still free, Gildor saw how close the orc was and took his chance, shooting up his leg he connected his boot with the orcs chin, its head shot back and so too did its weapon and shield. With another angry cry it composed itself and stared at the now standing elven warrior, who was panting lightly after the effort he put into keeping himself from being killed on multiple occasions over the last few minutes, with another cry the orc lunged forward to deliver its axe to the elf's head, Gildor waited for the enemy to come close so that he may return the favor with his own two swords.

* * *

Mairne dodged to the right as the hammer came towards him, the force of the hammer hitting the ground making it difficult to keep ones footing, and as it landed beside him Mairne slammed his own hammer on top of the larger one, forcing it further into the ground. He rushed towards the trolls left and struck his shield into the side of its leg, it let out a roar of pain before collapsing to that knee, in response the troll halted its attempts to free its hammer and went to crush the Tauren with its own massive fist, but a quick sidestep from the Shaman prevented that. With another thrust of his shield the orcs arm buckled and the troll keeled down its other hand now being used to try and support itself, Mairne brought back his hammer to strike the creatures exposed head and if the spirits willing - kill it. But he was forced to jump back or be crushed under the massive wooden club of the second troll, the ground in front of him ruptured as the club sank into it, he looked to his left to see it bringing down its other hammer towards him, jumping away from the attack Mairne lost his chance to remove one of the trolls, as it started to rise.

As it did it pulled back its own wooden club and shot it forward like a spear, it was too close for Mairne to dodge and the only thing he could do was bring up his shield, the mallet hit his shield dead centre, rocketing him off his hooves and through the air, crashing into the side of the earthen wall. The wall cracked and chunks of dirt fell away from the wall, Mairne wrenched himself free from the crevice he was knocked into and landed with a thud a few feet down, he looked up to see both trolls now slowly advancing towards him, Mairne knew he needed to use his abilities to beat these things, he couldn't risk it. And there was only one thing he could use that would give him the edge he needed, he slowly began to pour elemental power through his form, fire burnt within his veins, his muscles became as dense as stone, and with a mighty roar his rage was unleashed. His echoing cry resounded across the entire field, for only a moment there was a lull in combat, many eyes were cast to the form of the Shaman, his body shrouded in red mist and his essence giving off a murderous aura, he had become a walking instrument of bloodshed and battle.

Though the trolls were shocked they continued their attack, the first throwing down its hammer towards the Shaman, Mairne jumped back from the strike, the metal hammer head embedding itself into the ground, and then the Shaman used the back end of the hammer as a jump point. Mairne leapt to the hammer and from there leapt towards the weapon's wielder, it would be almost impossible for a feat such as that be performed especially for someone as large as the Shaman, Mairne did a full twist with his hammer across his chest and as he reached the Trolls face he swung Stonerender with all his might. The sound of bone breaking was met as the hammer connected with the side of the trolls head, the troll was nearly knocked off its feet and into the air, its left foot hovering just an inch above the ground as it flew to the side before it journeyed to the ground, when it hit the earth it became still and quiet.

Mairne regarded the creature with sneer, his blood was boiling the Rage of the Shaman churning within him, he turned to his right to see the metal hammer sailing towards him; bringing up his shield he met the weapon head on. When the two connected an inconceivable occurred, the Shaman had blocked the attack; using both hands he had halted the massive weapon; one would say it was a awe inspiring sight, but Mairne had been struck harder before and by bigger, with a roar and a great deal of effort he pushed the weapon over him and let it continue on its course. With the sudden shift in resistance the troll stumbled forward with the hammer, enough for Mairne to strike, leaping towards the trolls right leg he sunk his hammer into the side of its knee, the sound of snapping tendons and cartilage could be heard over the breaking of bones in its kneecap. It was when it hit the ground on its knees that it let out a cry of pain, its agony heard by all over the battlefield, it tried desperately to swing its club at the Tauren, but it was a worthless attempt, Mairne had only raised his shield half-heartedly, and still he stopped it without so much as a grunt of effort.

Grinding his shield against the side of the massive club he approached the trolls arm, he was going in to disable to creature further, he raised his hammer and smashed it down on top of the trolls elbow, the sound of bone being crush could be heard before the screams of pain. Its hammer fell to the ground and its arm fell lifelessly to its side, it was completely immobile troll on its right hand side, Mairne walked slowly around the to face the troll, it was panting hard as it took in deep pained breaths, it was near its end and Mairne was going to end this in one blow. Mairne began to chant once more, drawing from the elements around him he focused them into his hammer, he was going to obliterate this troll with everything he had, no more restraint, he could feel his weapon shake with the power he bestowed upon it, fire began to flow from the mouth and eyes pieces on the hammer. Soon the entire hammer was shown a deep gold red as the flames churned within the metal headpiece ready to be released as soon as it strikes, he felt his hand tremble as it tried to hold the weapon steady, but even his now colossal strength could barely hold the weapon firm.

Mairne drew back Stonerender and gripped the weapons handle as tight as he could, his muscles went as rigid as stone and he pulled his body back to allow for a stronger swing, he looked at the pained and horrified troll before him, he showed mercy to only those who deserved it, he would not let this creature live as long as it threatened the lives of the innocent. Without a moment hesitation he swung his hammer forward, a trail of golden fire followed in the weapons wake, the air sparked and burned as the weapon neared its target, Mairne pivoted with his weapon to give it all the force he could. Then the hammer struck its target, when it did there was a great light that blinded all for a few second, and when it touched the enemies flesh a great burst of flame erupted from the hammers tip, the troll's entire upper body was engulfed in fire and was knocked back onto its feet, leg broken or not it remained on its feet. There was no smoke just golden flames that consumed the targets form, when it finally disappeared the result of the attack could be seen by all, the troll had lost its head as well as much of its torso, a large V-shaped crevice appeared where its chest once resided, all that could be seen were the charred organs along the toasty insides of the body with the spinal cord and the few remaining ribs charred black from the flames.

Everything above it was gone; only a small part of the shoulders remained, just enough to keep the arms attached to the rest of the body, a gruesome and terrifying sight, for a single attack to obliterate nearly half of a trolls' body was something that should be feared. The body remained motionless on its feet for a moment before it finally fell back, its foul smelling corpse now that much more rotten with the stench of burnt flesh and blood, Mairne regarded his two defeated foes before him, it had taken some effort to put them down and he didn't come out of it unharmed, his shield arm ached and he was tired, he would need to heal his arm later as well as rest. Turning to the battlefield he watched the battle before him, many of the orcs had been killed, only two dozen or so remained alive, and the humans had suffered few casualties, only ten had been killed on the battlefield, and the archers had done their work with most of the orcs. Mairne grasped his hammer and rushed forward ready to help finish off the last of the orcs before they finish off the other hundred across the bridge, and he knew just how he was going to do it.

* * *

Gildor deflected the axe that dropped towards his head with right blade, it was held in front of his face and the axe slid along the surface before continuing on down his left hand side, with his left he stabbed it forward to the orcs stomach. The orc jumped back to avoid the attack, only receiving a shallow wound from the sword, the battle had taken a slight turn since Gildor was wounded, when the orc had wounded him he had to resort to very dangerous method in which to defend himself so that he could perform very easy counters. Which seemed to be paying off on the elf part, he had delivered over a dozen wounds to the orc over the last few minutes, and not one a single one had been laid upon him, though his wounded side prevented him from turning fully he was able to compensate enough so he didn't have to turn too much.

The orc tried another attack, this time with his shield, charging in he brought back his shield and swung it towards Gildor, he knew what the orc was doing and knew how to counter it, Gildor leaned back just enough the avoid the shield. As the shield past him he saw the orc with its axe coming towards him, he glanced at the axe as it came toward his head again, this time from the right, he saw his opening and took it, where one would raise their sword or shield to block the attack, Gildor struck while it attacked. He shot forward and further into the path of the axes course, one would think him insane for stepping into an attack, but Gildor had a plan, he turned to the oncoming weapon and with his left blade he swung down to the orcs arm, steel met flesh and the orc hand was cut off. While he was turning he reversed the grip on his other sword, he spun on his heels and stabbed his sword at the orc, he felt his blade connect, the orc coughed up blood as the elven blade sunk into the beasts neck, entering through one side and out the other. The orc wavered for a while, the blade still lodged in its windpipe, it sloshed incoherent words and spat out wads of spit and blood trying to speak, seeing no reason to keep the wounded animal alive any longer he pulled his sword free, the orc remained standing and only stumbled when the blade was removed.

Turning he brought up his over blade and cut off the orc head, its head fell to the ground and then its body followed shortly after, watching the now lifeless body of the orc before him he couldn't help but sign in relief that the fight was finally over. He had to admit it was a tough battle, he never expected the orc to be so skilled, even though he was likely a one in a million when it came to orc that could really fight he dreaded to think what would happen if there were more like his breed running around, he turned his attention to the battle before him. He could see the Guardsman and villagers were doing well, with the support of his warriors he could see they were turning the tide against the enemy, even though they had only forty warriors on the battlefield he could see that they were enough to handle the orcs and goblins, with the archers on the roofs they were able to kill scores of them without having to set foot on the ground.

He could see only about two dozen of the orcs were left, good he thought, the men could finish them off with little trouble, now he could see if he could help the shaman with those trolls, as he turned to where Mairne was fighting he was shocked by the scene before him. He looked upon the brutalized remains of one of the trolls, its torso looked to be blown apart; he could see the burn marks that covered its arms and what remained of its midriff, he had no idea what the Shaman could have done to cause such an injury. Then the troll's body fell back onto the ground, he felt the ground shake beneath his feet when it crashed into the earth, the Shaman observed it for a moment before turning to the field of battle, and then he rushed forward likely to deal out death to the other unfortunate creatures here. His gaze was still drawn to the remains of the two trolls, one had been dispatched with what looked like a savage blow to the head and the other had been utterly butchered by the Shaman, its right arm and leg appeared to be broken at the joint and with the wound that likely ended its life one couldn't deny it was a truly horrific way to go. As he saw the shaman pass him and obliterate the skull of an orc he had to wonder, how powerful are you? How powerful are you really? He could call upon powers that he knew nothing about and defeat opponents that could wipe out entire companies of soldiers singlehandedly if they could. Just what was he?

* * *

Captain Trotter dispatched the last orc with a swing of his sword; he was rewarded for his efforts with a spray of blood from the orcs now open neck, he took a moment to catch his breath before he surveyed the battlefield around him. He saw that of the sixty warriors that had entered the battle only forty five remained, even with the archers raining down arrows of the orcs they had lost many men, he looked to the roof to see said archers starting to climb down and join up with the rest of them on solid ground, he looked to his guardsman's and saw that of the fifteen casualties only six where his men, meaning nine villagers had been killed.

"Captain, what is the situation?" asked Gildor, approaching Trotter, who saw that the Elven noble was wounded, but based off the state of his men he was better off than most of them.

"Well, we've survived, but I don't think we're going to be able to fight off the rest of them as we are." He stated grimly, as he did though he felt something wash over his form, he felt his entire body tingle as an unknown energy wormed its way across his skin.

He looked around and saw that everyone else was being affected as well, people were looking themselves over trying to search for the source of the sensation; he looked to Gildor to see if the elf had an explanation, but instead he saw a similar sense of surprise written over his face. Gildor felt Goosebumps as this unknown energy flowed over him and within him, he had never felt anything like it before and he was very anxious to know what was causing it, and then a feeling told him he knew the cause of this, and he turned to look to the Shaman. His sixth sense seemed to be spot on, for when he looked to the Shaman he saw him standing over a small wooden totem that shined a light blue and pulsed with energy, he watched as he poured more energy into the totem in the form of green light.

"Mairne, what is that?" asked Gildor, his words seemed to find the ears of all those around, people began to watch in shock as the strange totem that glowed supernaturally.

"Look at your wounds" said Mairne, they did so but only at a glance, and when they did they saw something that shocked them more than the feeling that was crawling its way through their entire body.

Many of the people had been wounded and now they were watching as said wound healed, faster than one would expect a wound to heal they watched as scabs formed over their cuts and slowly disappear to be replaced with nearly invisible scars. They brushed their hands over their wounds to see if it was just their eyes playing tricks on them, but they felt the familiar feeling of a scar running across where their wound once was, they didn't feel any pain, they felt rejuvenated.

"This is called a **Healing Stream Totem**, it spread a fine mist within a small area and the water within the air heals those around it, what you are feeling over your skin is the water particles forming over you and healing your body." Explained Mairne, another gasps of shocked went up among the warriors, he could heal the wounds of dozens of people in a matter of minutes along with bring them back up to full strength, incredible.

"Impressive, you can control fire, moved the earth, and heal wounds in an instant, what else are you hiding from us." deadpanned Gildor.

"Nothing you don't already know about." Replied Mairne, in a similar manner

Mairne stopped pouring his energy into the totem and walked past the shocked warriors before him, his eyes cast towards the still roaring fire that separated the orc army in two; he was able to see past the flame and towards the fields beyond the cavern. The orcs had retreated back there and where waiting, he knew they would wait for the fire to dissipate before they attacked, but he wouldn't give them a chance to reorganize their forces before they attacked, he turned to Gildor and Captain Trotter.

"We need to assault the enemy army now; we cannot wait for them to regroup."

"But we don't have enough men, there are only forty of us left, and I don't think anyone else is too eager to charge into battle." Protested Trotter, his hand waving towards the now healed men, true they didn't have many men, not nearly enough to hold such a large force. He knew that if they waited for them on the bridge they wouldn't come and if they met them in the field they would be surrounded and cut down, the needed more than just numbers they needed the resolve, Mairne smirked he had plenty of that and he was willing to give it to them.

"Follow me and I will bring you victory." Said Mairne, he walked towards the burning wall before him, behind the people watched as he advanced to the raging inferno. They didn't know if they should follow, they had no idea what this creature was, true it had helped them and saved them from being decimated by those two trolls – which he killed by himself – but could they follow him into battle and fight an army three times their size. But it would seem that the elves did not have a problem with it, the all marched forward, following the shaman towards the wall of flame and ready to fight off an orc army alone if they need to, without hesitation or regret they moved forward. This did something that set the rest of the warriors off, some would call it pride others would call it their ego, but they began to follow after them, they may not like where they were going but they were not going to just let an orc army attack and destroy their home without a fight, arrogance aside they had a duty and a privilege to protect their home.

Mairne walked close to the flames and as he looked in he saw the totems churning out the flames like water from a dam, where one would require great amounts of water or rain to quell these flames Mairne did it with a wave of his hand, in an instant he dismissed his totems from existence, they crumbled to dust and the flames disappeared with them. He continued to advance, not stopping a moment, even though the ground beneath his was hot to the touch he continued on, ignoring the molten ground beneath him like it was nothing more than a heated floor, as he reached the other side he heard the warrior running across the burning soil to reach the much cooler earth on the other side. Mairne would have chuckled but this was no laughing matter, he was about to lead these warriors into battle and he needed to prepare, he needed to give them the gifts they needed in order to win this battle and to summon forth allies to fight against the horde before them.

Soon he was walking along the bridge, behind him he heard the sound of heavy footsteps following, he could make out at least twenty but he knew there were more, this was more than just about defending a town, it was their lives they were protecting – the live they built here, the lives they created here, the lives they wish to continue – and they would die to save it. Soon Mairne cross the bridge and onto open soil, ahead of him was the orc horde, they stood over thirty meters away from them and were busy snarling and hackling to the defenders to even try and set up a defense for the coming attack. Mairne eyes them coldly at the animalistic nature of these creatures; it would be an insult to the orc he knew to share such a name with them, the orcs of Duratar were savage but they had enough honor in them to show that they were not mindless beast looking to kill anything and everything.

He turned to the warriors that had followed him, he was glad to see all forty five had followed him and even a few more, he gazed at them and saw their fear for what was likely to them their final battle, but he would make sure that they made it through this. He couldn't assure them that they would all survive but he would make sure that he kept as many of them alive as he could, for he had seen too much death in his time and would do as much as he could to make sure no more died than needed.

"Warriors" he called to them, his voice firm and robust "We have done well so far, we have cut the enemy in half and wiped them out, now it is time to finish the job."

"These orcs have come here for one thing: to destroy everything you hold dear, your homes, your families, they care not what they take, only that it can be taken" he could see his words were reaching their ears, he saw hateful scowls directed at the orcs before them "Do not fight for glory, do not fight for gold, fight for the lives you wish to protect, and those of the men that fight beside you. Show them that they cannot take away your will to defend what is precious to you, show them what it means to fight against warriors with the resolve to protect, steel yourselves for you do not charge into deaths waiting maw, but onto the battlefield where the enemy waits to meet your blades and your cries of justice that will be met!"

The soldiers cheered, their hearts full of vigor that would drive them through the orcs like a tidal wave of steel, but he knew that bravo was not enough to get them through this, their minds were ready but their hearts needed one last thing before they were ready. Mairne began to channel the energies in his body, but this was not any normal ability, it was one of anger and hate, he felt the blood in his veins boil with anticipation, his face contorted into a snarl and with a mighty roar he let the power flow out from him. The energy shot out and encompassed all those near him, some fell to their knees as the energy seeped into their bodies and other shook as it washed over them, some let out screams of surprise and shock, but it all ended quickly. As they all rose to their feet the orc who were close enough were terrified with what they saw, before them was not some small band of warriors who though they could stop them, instead of humans and elves they saw men who radiated death and the lust for blood with their very stares.

They breathed heavily and growled like animals, their faces and postures showed that they were more like wild beast than men, snarling and angry features adored their once resolute faces; they had become monsters in their own right. Their muscles appeared to have increased, but only slightly, their red eyes were those of killers, who wanted nothing more than to butcher everything in their path, and in their path were those very orcs, some took cautious steps back, their fear of the people in front of them was well founded, they looked like they were just itching to pounce on the waiting orcs.

Mairne raised his hand in the air and with a quick decent the warriors charged forward, screaming at the top of their lungs as they descended towards the orcs, even the elves looked like monsters as they charged, their weapon held in their hands and ready to deliver them to the orcs down below. Mairne led the assault, his hammer and shield at the ready and his blood boiling in anticipation, as he descended to the first orc who was too scared to raised his sword or shield, he drew back his hammer and stabbed it forward, catching the orc in the chest. The orc was knocked off its feet and went barreling through over a dozen orcs before it stopped, its chest completely caved in with several of its bones sticking out its back, Mairne did not give them a moment respite and he attacked again. Delivering his hammer to the neck of a nearby orc, his body was driven into the ground, from the look of its corpse it was hard to tell what caused more damage, the hammer or the ground, bringing up the hammer once more he struck another orc on the opposite side, a similar end awaited the beast. Mairne went forward, casting quick glances around to find another victim, but he found only carnage brought upon the orcs by the warriors, he watched as they carved through them and kept going without any restraint they were animals, and that is what the needed at this moment.

* * *

Gildor cut down three orcs in two second, he ran through them like they were nothing, he decapitated one as he feigned an overhead strike, before stabbing another in the heart as he moved on the third, his sword sinking into the beast cut before he wrenched his blade from the second orcs chest and into the thirds. This was exhilarating for him, he never felt so alive, he could feel his blood burning within his veins but it wasn't a bad pain, he felt so at home right now, the blood and death were almost natural to him, he felt so great when he ended the life of one of these orcs and the feeling of blood on his hands and blades. Another strike, he nearly bisected an orc from waist to shoulder in one swing of his sword, had it been longer it may have worded, the beast fell but Gildor was already onto the next target, an orc attacked from his right, sword held high. Gildor stabbed his left blade into its chest before it could even blink and then he saw his two targets, one coming up from behind his latest kill and another charging in from behind his first, Gildor held his blade that remained in the orcs gut and reversed his grip on his other sword and drove it through its chest. He looked up to the last one its black pulled back to stab at the elven noble, Gildor ripped his blades free just as the sword veered towards his head, pulling his head to the right he dodged the attack almost to easily, before using both blade to cut open the orc stomach, the orc fell back and when it did it was at a ninety angle before its legs were pulled down with its torso.

He turned to the battlefield and saw all the warriors were fairing quite well against the orcs, in fact they were absolutely massacring the creatures, he saw men either kill with their sword or overpower orcs with a single hand, it was marvelous, which was somewhat strange for Gildor. He wasn't like this, but he wanted more, he wanted to kill, at first it was a red haze but now he had a focus and he wasn't even thinking through, it was more like an instinct rather than a battle strategy when he killed these orcs', he was fighting like a brawler rather then a well-trained ranger. He was torn from his musing as an orc came charging at him his axe ready to swing at him, Gildor snarled as he approached, when the axe came at him Gildor raised his sword and when the two connected the axe couldn't even budge the elfs arm, a twisted smirk came to the elf's face and he shot his blade up and into the orcs head. He pulled his blade free and kicked the corpse away before it could fall to the ground, he watched it in slight glee, he didn't know what was happening to him for the moment and right now he didn't care, he just wanted to kill some more.

* * *

The villagers could hear it off in the distance, the sound of battle and cries of death, they were just on the other side of the wall, they had heard it all, the sound of orcs and trolls, and when it was all over there was a lull in battle. Some thought the worst other thought they had won, which further supported their claims by the sound of warriors chatting and speaking, some – such as Nellie Boskins – waited patiently by the wall waiting for them to return, she may know they were outnumbered but she hoped that they would be enough.

Soon the sounds of fighting could no longer be heard, this was a relief to many, but also something they worried about, for they still did not know who the victor was, but it became apparent when the familiar stone stairs began to rise from the ground. When they came to a halt, two figures came over the steps, Gildor Inglorion and Captain Trotter, both bloody and tired, covered nearly head to toe in the dark blood of the orcs that they had been fighting against for the last hour.

"Trotter are you alright?" asked Nellie rushing over to see if her Captain was not hurt, he looked up at her wearily and gave a weak smile.

"Yes, Miss Boskins, I'm fine" he slumped down onto the stone steps and rested, he looked up and with a chuckle he said "We won."

The townswoman cheered at the news, they were safe and the orcs were all dead, they looked to the elf and the resting captain in anticipation, but they only saw some heartache from his features.

"Twenty four of those who fought did not survive the battle." Said Gildor, his voice heavy, and then the mood of the villagers sunk, people were dead, more people.

"My husband is he alright!" shouted one woman, charging through the crowd towards the elven noble, but she was not the only one.

"My Sons are they alright?" asked another, but Gildor could not ask, soon more were beginning to come towards him, all asking about their 'Sons', 'Fathers', 'Husbands', but he could not answer them.

Soon more people began to come over the wall, carrying the dead in stretchers from one side to the other, the people backed away from them as they brought over the bodies of the dead, one by one they set them down in a neat line for them to be buried later. Mothers, Wives, Sons, Daughters, Brothers, Sisters, moved to the recently deceased, some were people they knew others were friends, and some were family, the cries of those people could be heard far and wide, nothing was more heart wrenching than to lose a family member. All the while all the remaining warriors were clearing out the corpses of the orcs that littered the village square, over a hundred dead orcs needed to be dragged out and burnt, Mairne was busy discarding the bodies of the trolls, he engulfed their bodies in flames and let their bodies burn to ash and their armor into liquid pools of metal.

When their corpses where gone he went over to their weapons, he simply engulfed the wooden clubs in fire but saved the two large metal mauls, it would be a shame to destroy such grand weapons without so much as a thought, they could be of some use. Mairne halted in his task when he heard the distraught cries of the people over the wall, he glanced toward the wall and he could hear their cries as they likely found their husbands and fathers now dead, he knew that feeling, pain worked its way into his heart at the memory of his past that had caused him so much pain. Memories that haunted him even till this day, memories that had haunted him since he was a young calf and memories that remained as scars for him to remember for the rest of his days, but another one remains one he had received not so long ago, one that he know he will never full recover from. He grabbed hold of one by the shaft and began to drag them towards the centre of town; he uses all his strength to move the massive object, as reached the small bonfire in centre of town he planted down three totems around the camp. Each glowed a deep green, signifying they were totems of the earth, Mairne felt his strength increase as the energy of the totem gave him the strength of the earth, Mairne lifted the might hammer with both his arms and in a mighty effort he planted it into the ground, the head of the hammer raised in the air. He stepped back and with a wave of his hand the ground beneath the hammer condensed around the bottom of the shaft, fixing it completely in place, the onlookers were shocked by the sheer strength that it took to lift up that massive weapon, and why he had done it in the first place.

Soon he returned with the other hammer and performed the same feat, and as they hung there he raised a small earth platform to be level with the hammers head, he looked down to one of the soldiers and asked.

"What were the names of the guardsman that fell in battle?" the said soldier was shocked by the question, but none the less he told them all their names, all twenty six of them, and when he finished the Shaman turned back to the hammer.

He outstretched his hand and placed it against the metal, he then began to chant; slowly green energy began to course across his arm and flow into the hammer, everyone stopped their task and watched in awe as he poured his power into the weapon. The metal began to glow brightly, this went on for a few minutes before the Shaman withdrew his hand, there was nothing remarkably different about the weapon aside from strange marking along the side of the hammers head, Gildor approached and climbed up the platform. He looked at the hammer and saw written in the language of man were the names of all of the Guardsman who had fallen in the battle, their rank and name adored one side of the hammer respectively, Mairne hopped down from the platform and created another near the other hammer. As he rose to the hammer head he turned to the same soldier and asked again.

"What were the names of the innocent that were lost?" His voice heavier than before, the guard was shocked even more now, knowing what he was doing, he was making a memorial to those that were lost; he was making a remembrance in their honor.

The fact a being such as he would be willing to go to such length for these people who despised him and threatened him was humble, they didn't deserve his humility but he showed anyway, he was honoring the fallen. The soldier gave him their names, and like before he inscribed their names onto the side of the hammer, but as Gildor watched him perform the enchantment he found a passage along the border of the hammer.

_They fought to protect their Homes_

_They slayed to defend the Innocent_

_They died as warriors_

_Their sacrifice will never be forgotten_

A laurel to the fallen, that was what he had read, he looked over to Mairne and saw he had completed the work on the other hammer, jumping down from one platform he approached the other, he looked at all the names that adorned the hammer head and the inscription.

_They took up the swords of warriors_

_They took up the duty to protect their homes_

_They did not falter against the enemy_

_They were more than warriors_

_They were heroes_

Gildor watched as Mairne slowly walked towards the stone wall that separated the town from one side to the other, though he could not see his face he could see that the death of the innocent weighed heavy on him, maybe there was more to him than just a leader and a warrior. Mairne raised his hands above his head and with a moment of delay he began his chant, slowly he lowered the walls that separated the town from north and south, eventually he could see the forms of Trotter and Nellie Boskins speaking with the people. Eventually the wall was completely gone and the town was no longer separated into two halves, and the one who restored it as such was standing there with a morose expression on his face, though they could not see it, Mairne turned on his hooves and went on his way.

As he pasted the bodies of the orcs that yet remain to be collected and disposed of he came across those of fallen soldiers, he noticed some were young, some seem to have just reached manhood, it was a sad sight to see a young man taken away just as his life was about to begin, Mairne knew that feeling, he had not only seen it before but he had experienced a similar feeling before. He knew what it was like to have one's life uprooted because of death and war, he knew that feeling all too well, and even for all his wisdom and all his experience he had no idea how he could lessen the pain, he was a man who could help other but not himself.

* * *

That night a small feast was offered to the saviors for their role in defending the town, they were treated as heroes for their deeds, the elves where thankful for their hospitality, and Nellie performed a speech and praised the elves for their bravery and help. But it was also a time for mourning, those that were lost and to never return, Gildor had shown them the memorials that had been placed in the centre of the town, and they were grateful for the memorial, though they praised the elves it was Mairne who had done the deed and saved the village.

The Shaman was not at the feast, he was sitting on the same mound overlooking the gorge below; it reminded him slightly of Thousand Needles, his old home, and a place he had not ventured to in nearly two decades. Though he was the hero of this day he was not acknowledged, but he cared not for reward or admiration for his deeds, for they would bring him only a temporary pleasure that would be replaced with another soon after, he knew the cause of this grief that weld inside him and he could never forget it.

"Sheza…" he murmured to himself.

* * *

**Well there you have it, the end of the War of the North and the last Chapter for this year, hope to see you for Chapter 12 in Early January. Also check out my new story and help me create OC for it, plus have a merry Christmas and a happy new year.**


	14. Chapter 12: The Five Meetings Part 01

**Hello Everyone, and a happy new year, I hope you enjoyed your Christmas break and the holidays, a new year and there for a new chapter to my story, here it is and just to be kind, I'll be putting up two, this will be a small arc concerning the other main characters in the story and getting them off to a good start, I've focused on Mairne a bit and decided to focus on everyone else for a change.**

**Also I would like to thank those who sent me OC for my story United Against the Legion of Flame, I will do my best to put them in the story where they fit and also I would like to ask you to travel to my Profile to vote on which arc the story should take place in.**

**Ultima-owner – The hammer is but a physical object, the names are what are important, they need not be etched in stone or written down on paper, and if one remembers them in their heart they can truly never be forgotten. Remember that, no matter if they walked this world or the next as long as you remember the time you spent with them and the happiness you had you will never be alone.**

**Bondo steelmetal – Well I'm glad you like it, the orc guy (Varro) well he will be turning up very soon, very, very soon, and the druid (Rosaria Wildmane) same thing, very, very soon. Yeah well even though Sefri has a staff and not a sword there will be so much face smashing.**

**Hmmmmm, I thinks Luna, reason why, that is my own**

**Hoof? No idea.**

**Leapinglemur – Thank you for the review and the blessing on my Christmas, Wanzika and Hanaka, all of which I celebrate, meaning I am now filthy rich, LOL, well enjoy the next chapter, and for the United Against the Legion of Flames, vote on which arc I should place it in and I'll start writing the next chapter.**

**Guest – Thank you for the vote**

**Knolden – thank you and I hope to hear from you in later chapters, and thank you for the vote.**

**On with the story, hope you like.**

**Chapter 12: The Five Meetings (Part 01: The King's Snake)**

* * *

**Rohan, Edoras**

Joana rode across the green plain of Rohan towards the city of Edoras, in her opinion it was more of a large fort than a capital of a nation, she could see it situated on a large hill where at the top sat a large stone fort, she had to ride for the city she remembers speaking with the villagers yesterday. The ones who were kind enough to take her in and keep her safe as she healed, she had spoken to them at lengths as to where she was and why she was there, although since they were common folk she decided not to tell them about her arrival in this land or how she was brought here. After all they didn't seem the type to come in contact with magic very often, a fact that they expressed when they asked what that light was, and the occasional words such as 'sorceress' and 'Istari', luckily she was able to downplay it.

_One day ago_

"_Tell me, where am I?" asked Joana, her question directed to the elderly man before her, after she had killed the Wildmen and then restrained the last surviving two she had been taken to a more secluded homestead where she could get her questions answered._

"_You are in Westemnet, of the Kingdom of Rohan" said the elderly man, he sat at the table along with several other villager who had their eyes all on the woman in white before them, most were looking at her in awe of her beauty and other at the fact she defeated the men not a few minutes ago._

"_I am not familiar with the Kingdom of Rohan" Joana stated plainly, she looked to each of the men before her and saw that they were likely only here to ogle her, she sighed as she asked another question "If it would be possible, could you give me a horse and directions to this nation's capital."_

"_You're leaving?" he asked_

"_Yes, I need to know where I am and if possible figure out if I can return home from here, this countries' ruler may have resources that I can use to return home, but if the horse is a problem I can travel on foot." She stated plainly, she knew that from some of the architecture and designs in the house that horses were a valued or highly regard commodity in this place, so it was likely that she would likely have to pay a large sum of money to buy one or start walking._

"_No, that is not the problem, it's just that, even if you go to Edoras it will still be difficult to meet with the king, after all, he rules all of Rohan and doesn't have time for us common folk." Said the old man, to which her eyes narrowed slightly, he became a little unnerved by her reaction and tried to clear it up. "I didn't mean to offend you, you are far from common."_

"_It is not that" she replied, her voice low as she spoke "A king is meant to rule his people, but he must also rule for them rather than just over them, if he ignores his subjects he is nothing but a man underserving of the power bestowed upon him."_

_Some of the people were shocked at the way she had spoken of their lord, true over the last few months he had neglected his rule over the land and much turmoil had spread across it but they never spoke ill of him, his riders still kept the peace as best they could and his son led them. But they knew that there was more to this than they thought, there were dark whispers of something more sinister happening in the city of Edoras, things that were said to be the beginning of the end of the kingdom of Rohan. Joana rose from her chair and went to the cupboard that contained her armour and shield, which she quickly gathered up and went to another room, as she did the owner of the house Morwen followed behind, as she entered she saw Joana discarding her dress. Leaving a naked woman before her, she was slightly embarrassed and turned away on the spot. Joana looked at the woman and shrugged to herself when she turned away, she didn't understand why she came in or turned away from her while she changed, if it was a man she would only show him her fist and the her boot as she kicked him out the door. Joana first put on a pair of new undergarments and then began putting her armour on, she started with her breastplate and then her leggings before moving on to her arms and feet, ten minutes later she was finished suiting up and Morwen was able to take her in all her glory._

_Her armour was a mix between gold and silver metal, thick steel plating covered every inch of her body and offering the most supreme of protection, silver plates lined with gold trimmings, further increasing the outstanding quality of her armour. Her chest piece was a solid plate of metal with a golden lion her emblazed over her chest and below it was a glowing crystal of azure, around her neck was a blue cloth that ran down her back. Her arms and legs were covered with form fitting metal plates which were further added upon with elbow and knee length Gauntlets and Boots, on her waist were two metal plates that hung by her belt, the belt in question was metal segmented girdle with gold trimming and an azure crystal as the buckle. But it was her shoulder guards that drew her attention, the large semicircular silver metal that had gold trimming with blue cloth which was only meant to connect her armour to the pauldrons, what attached to it was another piece of armour. A large bronze shell connected to her pauldrons and offered her protection on either side of her head; it was connected by a partially seen triangular metal that had a large sapphire crystal placed on the corner, they sat neatly on her shoulders and showed no signs of discomfort on having them there._

_Joana clamped her shield onto her back and then sheathed her sword under it; she looked like a knight from a legendary tale in Morwen's eyes, before she moved past the mother of two and back into the room, receiving some very surprised and awe struck glances from the people within. She turned to them and saw their shocked stairs, and likely some flustered ones as they looked at the form fitting armour around her legs and arms, sometimes she hated the fact that Alliance armour was designed to offer adequate protection and high degrees of mobility, it just wasn't worth the gawking she got from the opposite sex sometimes._

_Present_

When she had spoken with them she was able to acquire a horse and also provided the expenses with some gold that she had on her person, when she presented it to them however they were shocked even further by her charity it would seem, she didn't know why though it was just loose change she had on her. She thanks the villagers and was given a hug from a very happy young girl who called her an angel, although she didn't know what she was talking about she thanks her for the kind words and took off, riding through the rest of the day and much of the night towards Edoras, and to meet this King Théoden.

* * *

**Edoras, Main Gate**

As Joana came to a halt at the main gate she was confronted by two guards, they were dressed in chain mail and green tunics, and with wooden spears with steel tips, they didn't appeared to be that highly trained or steadfast in their duty as guards, must be either new recruits or just lazy. And from how the length of their beards, it was likely the latter, this was one things she did not like about these soldiers, they were undisciplined men who didn't take anything seriously, what if there was an attack or there was a problem at the gate what would they do point their sticks at it and hope it went away. As they approached her side they looked up at her and when they saw her in armour they seemed to be supressing a laugh, another thing that she didn't like about these men, they took one look at one another before they asked her.

"What is your business in Edoras, my lady" he asked, his amusement clearly present in his words as they were badly kept at bay, she narrowed her eyes at him and her golden orbs burning into his own. If he could see her irises glowing with anger he would have taken a step back, sadly either his sight was very poor or he was just completely oblivious to her piercing gaze, she took in a calming breath before replying.

"I am here to see your king" she stated, her mirth for the man before clearly shown as she spoke, earning a shocked expression from the man, from either what she said or how she said, that was not known.

"What business do you have with our king?" asked the other guard, as he gazed up at her, his eyes looming over her suspiciously, but also with a hint of lechery, and again she narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

"My business is my own, as is yours now let me pass" she replied, her words becoming more heated as their eyes kept travelling over her form, she didn't have to deal with this back in Stormwind, those people knew how to act, instead of being a pack of lewd animals.

"We cannot let you pass" he stated, getting in front of her horse and grabbing the horse's reins.

"Why" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous to all who heard it, she may be a warrior of peace and light, but she was one who brought retribution upon those of evil and chaos, and while these people were neither they still were grinding on her nerves.

"Because we cannot allow an unknown 'woman' carrying arms into the city without knowing what her intentions are." He stated, Joana looked at him for a moment, he was right in a sense if she was a guard and there was just some random man who wanted to see the king personally she would be suspicious, man or woman, she would want to know who they were and why they were here. Sighing in exasperation she decided to tell the truth as to why she is here, she couldn't really lie to them, if she did it would go against her code and her honour, but if she skimmed it she would have fewer questions arise than she needed.

"I am not from this land, I require aid from your king in discovering where I am and why I am here, and also if it is possible for me to be sent back home. Does that sound reasonable enough?"

The two guards looked at one another before turning back to her and asking a simple question.

"Where are you from them?"

"My home is Stormwind in Elwynn Forest" she said, seeing two confused looks from the men before her she elaborated a little "In the Eastern Kingdoms"

Then both of them looked like they had some form of epiphany, they grips on their weapons seemed to tighten as they now stared up at her eye very hostile eyes, she could see that whatever was likely to happen next may involve a fight, a fight she didn't want any part in. She noticed that their legs were spaced apart and their free hand was clenching and unclenching, likely to grab the spear in a two handed grip and then thrust it towards her, she was confident she could defend herself, but one can never be to certain.

"So you're from the east them" asked the second guard, his words low and dangerous, as if wanting to confirm her words before striking, Joana observed their positions and readied herself should they try anything, he left hand leaving the horses reins and freeing itself so she can move for her sword.

"You could say that, but it is just its name in relation to the land it is situated alongside." Her tone even and showing no emotion as to fuel the tense situation any further.

"And what land is that?" said the first guard

"Kalimdor" there was a moment when the two lost their seriousness and their grips loosened, they obviously had never heard of the two lands before, but she already knew it was unlikely they have heard, after all she doubted she was still on Azeroth, they composed themselves before speaking up.

"How do we know you are telling the truth?" one asked, reforming his previous stance and the grip on his spear tightening.

"I am a Paladin, we are forbidden from telling lies" she replied nonchalantly, as if it was the most commonly known bit of information that should have been known.

"So you can't lie huh" said the first guard incredulously, she turned her gaze onto his, her sharp eyes focusing on his subtle movements and stance.

"We can only lie if it is required to save someone from harm or danger, but never without good intention" she illiterate, the two guards looked at one another for a moment, before turning back to Joana and backing off and then together to have a private discussion with one another, she couldn't make out what they were saying. She looked at them argue about what the course of action they should take, eventually she saw them both nod to one another and turn to her, they both moved up to her side and the one on her right spoke first.

"Alright, we can let you in, but you have to disarm yourself and wait for the king to allow you to see him" the first guard said, even though he believed that a woman wouldn't be much of a threat with a sword he could allow anyone into the Great Hall while armed.

"That is acceptable" Joana said with little worry, true she would be unarmed; she could still defeat anyone who tried to attack her and with some effort escape without being wounded or captured, but it was reclaiming her sword that would cause some problems.

The guards moved aside and called for the gate to be opened, she allowed her horse to trot forward, she could hear the guard on the others side groan and complain as they pulled the wooden gate open, and she waited patiently on the threshold for it to open. When the gate stopped with a load thud she moved on, as Joana did she passed an elderly man who was sitting on a stone just outside the gate, she looked at him and saw his ragged appearance and condition, it looked like he had been beaten. His face had several bruises and was slightly bloody, and from the way he was hunched over on the stone she could tell that more than his face was bruises, and from the dampness of his grey robes she could see that he has also been out here likely all night. He had a long grey beard and equally lengthy hair to match, he looked like he was in his mid-sixties, she could not understand why the man before her had not been let inside so he could receive medical attention, and she rounded on the two guards to discover why.

"Why is this man not inside being treated for his wounds?" her words were icy, while her glare was smouldering, the guards looked at her and them the old man uneasily.

"We have been commanded to bar him from entering" he said, but the way it was said showed he didn't like the orders, possibly because it went against what he believed was right, letting an old man suffer.

"By whom?" she enquired her tone still frigid.

"Grima Wormtongue, advisor to the King" said the guard, but with a hint of distain in his voice for the man, so her assumption was wrong, it wasn't the orders that earned his contempt it was the man who gave it.

Joana dismounted and then walked over to the old man and offered him a hand, she could not in good conscious pass as a man suffered while she could help, he looked up at her with his bright blue eyes and studied her, for a few moment Joana was startled, when she looked into his orbs she didn't see an old man, but a very powerful being. She could feel something almost radiating off him, ancient, powerful, divine, those were the words that came to mind when she looked at him, but that moment past as he took her hand and she lifted him up. She looked upon him once more and saw only a frail old man before her; she shook her head passing off the strange feeling as nothing more than her own imagination, as she took him by the arm and led him through the gate.

"Wait! He cannot enter!" shouted one of the guards, Joana stopped and turned to them, her glare alone stopped halted any argument they were planning on rousing. They turned away and allowed them to pass all the while casting cautious glances to one another as she continued, afraid of whose wrath they feared more , Grima's or that woman's.

As Joana walked through the city she looked upon the tiled roof and wooden houses before her with little interest, she was more preoccupied with getting the man currently using her left arm as a crutch to walk than about the city she was visiting, she could see a small cut along the ridge of his forehead. Whatever happened to this man it was definitely serious, and from how old some of the wounds appear he had not just taken one beating but several, from what she could see he was not in serious harm of dying but any internal injuries that are unseen can prove her otherwise. Looking around she could see that there was not much to differentiate this place from the village she awoke in yesterday, albeit these ones were much better constructed and maintained than those in the village, which were tacky and crude, as she travelled further she could see that her presence was drawing some attention. She could see the surprised and awestruck looks of the villagers before her, many coming from men who were surprised to see a woman in armour, but she paid them no heed and walked on with an emotionless masked of impassiveness. As she moved further she found what appeared to be a village square, which had a stable, walking over the stable hand she gave the boy the horse reins, who accepted it rather dumbly from the woman before him, she then decided to take the old man to a secluded spot where she could see who he was and maybe heal him.

She found a small wooden bench, which was a tree log that had been cut in half, she set the old man down onto the hard wooden bench and then stood before him; he looked up at her and that same feeling pass over her as she looked into his eyes. The feeling as if the person before her was more than meets the eyes, he was powerful and long lived being, she had never felt power like this before, but she had seen it before in the eyes of others, mainly great warriors and champions of the Light, but also in others such as an old Shaman her master regarded very highly.

"Who are you?" Joana asked; she could see that he was trying to gauge her, as she was him, now that she knew that the feeling she felt at the main gate was not a fluke she decided to press and see if she could discover what this man really was.

"My name is Gandalf" said the old man, his voice tired and strained, she looked at him for a moment, then she remembered his injuries he was in condition to be questioned by her, any of her questions about what he is could wait for the moment, he was hurt and needed medical attention.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, kneeling before him to check out the cut on his forehead and to see if he was bleeding anywhere else, she could not see any tears or laceration on his form or robes other than the one on his brow so it seemed he was in good condition considering.

"An old friend" he said, his tone showed that this 'old friend' of his was no longer anything of the sort, she looked into his eyes to see shame in his deep blue eyes, for what she did not know.

"Is he still someone along those lines?" Joana inquired, returning to her inspection to see how severe his wounds were.

"Sadly, no" he replied, he then went silent for a moment as she was looking over his form, he didn't understand what she was doing, why was she examining him like this "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if your seriously wounded, you seem to be in a great deal of pain" she replied, casting a quick glance up at him before returning, when she was satisfied she lifted herself up and stood before him. "If you wish I can heal you, but only if you stay calm and don't overreact"

Gandalf looked at her oddly, if she was going to help him how were her actions going to cause him to overreact, but none-the-less nodded to her request, she moved forward and kneeled before the aged wizard and place her hand over his chest. She closed her eyes and began to murmur under her breath, he could pick up on the faintest of words that left her mouth, but he didn't understand what context they were mean to be used under, then he felt a strange sensation move through his body. Looking down he saw her hand was glowing in a golden, he could feel his chest warm and his pain subsided as it went from his chest to throughout his entire body, he felt his pain leave him and his mind become clear and blissful, he let out a relieved sigh before he smiled as the feeling continued to swell within his heart and mind. He felt at peace and without worry; even though he knew he should be, Frodo and the others were in danger, yet he felt the stress and worry that was weighing down on him depart and be replaced with happiness and relief, and then it began to slowly fade away.

Though he could still feel the comfort of the magic that was used to heal him within his body, it felt less than what it was a moment ago, he looked to the woman before him and couldn't find the words to speak, his mind may have been made clear but he had lost that clarity when he tried futilely to think of words to express his gratitude. He resigned in on himself and simply smiled down to her, it may not carry as much affirmation as words, but it was enough to show that he was grateful to her, she saw this and replied with her own, though small it was still there. She raised herself up and then pulled something out of her purse, she handed it to him, he was slightly surprised to see a gold coin now in his hand, and he had not expected her to part with something that so valuable, gold was a very valued commodity especially considering its worth.

"Take it and get yourself some food and rest, you're going to need it, and maybe even a few nights in an Inn." She said, though it sounded like an order coming from a commanding officer than from a kind hearted woman who had just healed him.

"I cannot accept this, it is simply too much" Said Gandalf trying to return the gold coin to the woman before him, with this alone he could possibly buy a house from one of the villagers, but she shook her head and waved her hand at his own.

"That is not necessary, I have enough to sustain myself, and you are in more need than I, so keep it and take care of yourself" she reassured the old man before her, he did so but hesitantly, she looked up from him and to the great hall a near the top of the large hill that this city resided on.

"You wish to meet with the king?" asked Gandalf

"Yes, I need to discuss things with him, mainly about where I am" she replied, her gaze not lifting off the large stone hall that rested at the hilltop, she turned back to Gandalf to see him looking up at her with a smile on his face.

"I would seem that we both require an audience with the good king" he replied a kind smile.

"You wish to speak with him?" she asked

"Yes, I require a horse to travel from here to meet an acquaintance of mine; you may accompany me if you wish"

"I mean no offence, but how exactly are you going to meet with the king? Do you know him personally?" she inquired, to which he chuckled before standing up, she could see he had a mischievous glint in his eye; she raises an eyebrow as he moved past her and slowly walks towards the keep.

She followed closely behind him as she made his way up the slight incline, wondering along the way as to how he was going to just be granted an audience with the king, as they marched up to the hall she noticed that apart from the glances the guard were giving her, many were moving towards the old man. From what she could tell they knew him or know of him in some regards, but in what capacity she did not know, when they stood before the two large wooden doors she saw nine guards standing vigil over it, Gandalf came to a stop and they moved towards him. The man leading the guard was a middle aged man with shoulder length orange hair and a beard to match, covered in more decorative armour and clothing, he was likely the more senior and elite of this cities guard than the lot she found down at the gate, she could see he had a pained expression on his features as if he was not happy about what he was going to say.

"I'm sorry Gandalf, but I cannot allow you to enter, you aren't even supposed to be within the city" said the man

"And what harm can an old man do you?" asked Gandalf, his voice becoming frail and weak, Joana glanced at him disbelievingly; he was playing as a frail old man? That was his plan to meet the king.

"I am sorry; under orders from Grima Wormtongue you cannot enter the hall" his words were heated as he mentioned that name; likely all the guards carried the same sentiment about this Advisor to the King.

"Where those his exact words" asked Joana, the guards attention turned to her and he lost his sympathetic expression with one of confusion, he looked at the woman before him up and down and had no idea what he was really looking at.

"Who are you?" he asked his curiosity very evident in the way he spoke.

"Joana Lightlance, I am here to speak with your King" she stated plainly, some of the guards were taking a good long look at her before the orange haired man replied.

"What business does our king have with you?" he inquired, as he studied her appearance more thoroughly than before, while she had to hold back a groan as he did so along with many of the other guards that had just noticed her.

"I simply need to know where I am in relation to where I am from" she stated, before she changed topic back onto its course "Now answer my question: did this Wormtongue say Gandalf could not enter the hall."

Hama was silent for a moment as he thought over the words; she could see that even though he was a man that followed order without question he carried a certain amount of loathing for the man who gave them, enough for him to find the loophole in the orders to spite him if need be. He then looked up at Gandalf and with a sigh he answered.

"No, he said you could not enter the city, he spoke nothing of you entering the hall"

"Ah, good, now then may we enter" said Gandalf gesturing to Joana

"Not while armed, you may be a woman, but I cannot allow you to carry it into the hall" said Hama, Joana narrowed her eyes not at the fact he was disarming her, but he had to add the fact that she was a woman and therefore not a threat, she didn't think any of it at the gate as they didn't mention it, she was starting to dislike this place with a passion, any more remarks such as that and there will be punishment for the insults.

She reached for her back and drew her sword, the metal hissing as it flat side of Abaddon moved against her armour and shield, the guard were shocked at the weapon, it appeared to be made of gold and steel, but in truth they were half right. Titansteel was blue in colour and could be alloyed with almost any other metal or mineral to either increase its strength or change the colour without lessoning the strength of the metal as a whole, that allowed blacksmiths to make fine works of art in their weapons and armour, but this weapon was created by being much more extravagant than any normal blacksmith. This weapon was ancient, older than even the humans of her world, this weapon was one made by Titans, the bringers of order, and because of that she wouldn't allow these men to take hold of it and sully it.

She spun the blade in her hand until it was in a reverse grip, then she tightened her hold, and drove the sword into the stone block beneath her, the stone cracked and groaned as the sword pierced through, leaving the blade several inches embedded into the stone and many shocked faces around. She turned to them and with a neutral expression said.

"I leave my sword here, do not bother trying to take it, you are not strong enough to remove it" she walked past the guards with Gandalf in toe, several guards approached the sword and saws that it had been thoroughly embedded into the stone, they took at one another and then one went to try and remove it from its place, how foolish they were.

As Joana walked into the Golden Hall of Edoras she was brought into a dimly lit room, there were long alcoves on either side of the room that ran perpendicular to the main lengths of the hall, which were separated by several cylindrical pillars. Several figures spoke to one another in the alcoves, some were finely dressed men and woman while others were what appeared to be well dressed soldiers, but their attentions were drawn away from their idle chatting to the two new occupants in the room. Some turned their gazes to the aged wizard before them, but their gazes soon found their way onto the other accompanying him, several people were gawking at the woman who was walking beside the Istari and the air of authority she carried with every step made the soldiers wonder who this woman was. While some in the room scoffed at the woman who dressed like a man, how unaware they were that her skill and ability alone made her one of the most deadly warriors currently in the room, soon both Wizard and Paladin came to a stop before a throne in which sat the King of Rohan.

Joana was surprised to see the man who ruled these lands, he was haggard, his skin was pale and his long grey hair and beard was unkempt, and his eyes appeared glassed over as if he were blind, his gaze would veer around the room and appear that his mind was as disordered as his appearance. At his side sat a man cloaked in black, his skin was pasty and his hair was greasy black, he looks made him appear to be a mischievous and unscrupulous character, and the way he spoke into the Kings ear all the while supported it so. The man rose from his stool and walked down the steps all the while glaring at the old man beside her and sneering in her general direction, she scowled at the greasy creature before her, he was like all the others, but this one was on a whole other level.

"You were forbidden from entering this city" he spat, venom in every word he spoke, he was a like a snake, but she could tell he was only a pathetic coward who hid behind his position, a Worm indeed she though. "And you disgrace this hall by entering it, sorcerer"

That caught Joana by surprise, Gandalf was a sorcerer, that must have been the feeling she felt when she looked into his eyes, he was a magi, and what she sense must have been his power, and from what she could tell it was a great power. Gandalf did not take the words as they were, he smiled and with his hands clasped in front of him he remained calm and collected as he spoke, he knew that he couldn't speak out of turn here, there was too much at stake.

"I don't recall you baring me from this hall, after all what reason would you have to fear me entering this place" Asked Gandalf innocently enough, although the man, Grima, snarled at this, 'pathetic' Joana thought 'he thinks that his position give him power, nothing but a fool'.

"You are not welcome here, leave at once and do not return" he spat at the Wizard, had his words carried actual venom, the old man may have died before he reached the end of his sentence.

"He requires a horse, if you wish him to leave so badly then give him one and he can be on his way" said Joana, earning herself the worm's attention and everyone else in the room, she stared at him impassively as he looked her up and down with arrogant contempt.

"Who are you, to speak to me, woman?" he cried out in outrage, she looked at him with no expression other than annoyance from the way she furrowed her brow.

"Joana Lightlance, Paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand" This got the reaction she expected from them, sneers and hollowed laughter.

"A Knight? You? Don't make us laugh!" snorted a man from the crowd, but Joana paid them no heed, her attention focused on the now laughing man before her.

"Tell me do you think yourself a man?" Grima asked, her collar rising by the second, much as she wanted to bark at the man before her, and show him his place as nothing more than a snivelling little fool, she held her tongue, she was a guest in this hall and before a royalty, she could only do so much.

"No" she gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Then you have no right to act as one or speak in the presence of your betters" he retorted, there were some snickers around the hall, Joana was fuming at the moment, her scowl deepened and she was having some difficulty keeping herself composed.

"You leave this place! Take any horse you wish and be Gone!" he said to Gandalf before turning away and walking over to his stool next to the kind and taking his place at Théoden's side, and with a few words whispered in the Kings ear, Théoden played like a puppet under the worms string.

"Leave Gandalf Greybeard" said the King, his words weak and far apart from one another as he spoke, from what Joana could see he looked as if he could barely make out the words let alone speak them, this Kingdom had no king, only a figurehead ruled by a puppet master.

Gandalf bowed to the king and then turned to leave, but not before putting a comforting hand on her shoulder and then giving her a look, as if saying 'do not put too much hope in them', sadly she already knew as much, she expected this from these people, but she had to try. These Rohirran thought woman were nothing more than breeding stock and homemakers, it infuriated her that they looked down on her like this and even though her code prevented her from harming the innocent her pride would soon overshadow it and take it out on those around her.

"What do you want, lady Knight" sneered the Worm on his stool, some snickers and chuckles were heard from those around the room, there were few in the room he took pity on her plight, most were the woman and some were the men, but it was likely they thought her a fool who was acting the part and should stop it before she embarrassed herself further.

"I am here to ask for aid from the king" she said, her voice hard and her tone dangerously low, although it was missed by many there were a few who caught on to it, it was as if she was warning them not to cross the line, but even for those who caught on passed it off as nothing more than a subtle threat.

"What aid do you require, other than out of that heavy armour and into something more appropriate" said a man from the side, earning more laughter from those around, Joana's hands clenched into fists, she was thinking of striking the bastard but held back the urge to beat him into a bloody pulp.

"I am far from my home and wish to know where I am" she stated plainly, but it was a very straining effort to keep her warring emotion from spilling out, she looked up to the king to see his gaze was focused on anything that caught his interest around the room rather than the woman trying to speak with him.

"Your home? Tell me does your home have no real men and it is forced to use only its woman" asked a man from the side, he then received a piercing stare from Joana; that put him in his place before leaving an indignant scowl on his face.

"My home is far from here, how far I do not know, I only wish to return there"

"Home to your precious Knights I suppose" said Grima

"You would do well not to insult them, though we do not harm the innocent we do not take kindly to those who insult our ideals and honour." she said in a dangerous tone

"Do no lecture us woman!" said Grima "Here you are nothing; you are a frail and weak little girl who need to know her place! Now leave, I will not aid some child who wishes she was not born the way she was."

Joana fist trembled as she tried to control herself, her anger was so intense she was trying to control her power from manifesting and harming those around her, she didn't speak a word and turned around and walked to the door, all the while people were murmuring to one another. Speaking of the woman who thought herself a man, or how she must be some confused girl who was raised by a foolish father, some even thought she was a native of the Eastern Lands, but their words were not heard by her, her focus was on keeping her anger in check.

When she reached the doors she saw two men standing by either side of it and looking at her with a cruel smirk on their faces, she could see that they held little opinion of her and that made her anger rise even further.

"Does the woman need help opening the door" one of them asked.

She snapped, her hands no longer trembled, she face no longer carrying a dark scowl, her eyes… burning with unadulterated anger, she needed to vent her frustration, and there was only one thing in her path that allowed it, she took a step forward and when she was at the door she brought up her foot and kicked it open. The bars that locked it in place wore broken off the wooden frame, the wood splintered where it was struck, and the door flew open and smashed into the stone alcove, breaking both the door and the stone work for equal measure. She stepped out, leaving a room full of shocked and terrified soldiers and nobles, she walked towards her sword and grasped it with a firm hand and ripped it free from the stone, a gasp went up amongst the soldiers outside, who had been trying to remove it for the past few minutes and had been unable to do so. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder and her fiery gaze landing on the snake who whispered into the ear of the decrepit king, she could see him sweating and trembling at the display he had just witnessed.

"Pray that I do not return, or your will answer to my judgement" her words cold as any mountain top, where her eyes were as scorching as any burning forge, they knew now that the woman they had just insulted could likely overpower them and kill them with little to no effort. They were lucky that the being that came into that hall had not been of questionable morals, lest they feel the brunt of her wrath, but even they knew that this would not be the last time she visits this city.

Joana turned and walked at a brisk pace down the steps and back towards the stables, she could see that even more people were giving her odd looks as she paced towards the stable to claim her mount and leave the accursed city, as she did she saw Gandalf pulling out a very unruly white horse. She didn't give him any mind as she passed and got her horse, she pulled out a silver coin and flipped it to the stable hand and then departed without a word, she went full gallop through the city towards the gate which were hastily opened to allow her to leave. Her anger still present she moved across the planes in full stride and to some place where she could cool her nerves and not be insulted about her gender and occupation as one, she doubted she would find a place such as that, but she could only hope that not all these people were bigots and fools.

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**There it is, chapter 12, and to let you all know, there is another chapter, isn't that great.**


	15. Chapter 13: The Five Meetings Part 02

**Well Here is the Second Part, hope you enjoy, and have the next two chapters up as soon as possible. Check out my updated profile and the poll to see which direction United Against the Legion of Flames should take.  
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**Chapter 13: The Five Meetings (Part 02: The Heavenly Whisper)**

* * *

**South-Western Osgiliath, Mausoleum of Agarinna**

Sefri turned to the sound of clashing steel and cries of pain and anger; she could see arrows and the briefest of shapes in distance of warriors clashing, on the remains of the large Mausoleum she stood upon she could see small details but her senses told her more than her eyes or ears could tell her. She could feel the life force of dozens of warriors all around the city disappearing by the minute, and even more of them were slowly faded from her sense, she could feel as people died and their souls travel from one world to the other, she looked down to the soldiers as they carried in the wounded. She could see many of them had been heavily injured, long gashes across their arms and chests could be seen as well as a good amount of blood that added a new shade to their armour, she would have her work cut out for her, she needed to get to them quickly lest they join those unfortunate to not live through their ordeal as they did. Leaping down from the massive Crypt she landed with a thud on the muddy ground, another group of soldiers were being carried her way as she rose to her full height, she looked over to the clearing where they were all being set down – just outside the Baths of Caranthan, which is where the wounded were now to be treated under her orders, which had been without use for many years – there were fifty eight soldiers on the ground, but she could only feel forty or so that were still clinging to life.

She moved down the aisles that separated the line of soldiers from one row to the other, as she did she shoved her hand forward and a ray of light shot from her palm and enveloped them one at a time as she passed, their wounds slowly healed and eventually they would no longer in danger of dying. But this was only a temporary solution, she needed to spend actual time with her patients in order to heal them properly, she could simply flash heal them and hope they got better, she needed to tend to their wounds and heal them all, but with so many there was only so much she could do. So one by one she healed the soldiers and pulled them free from the brink of death, after that she could allow the other doctors to get to work and keep them from dying long enough for her to eventually get to them for better treatment. But based on how this battle was being waged there would be many who would need her medical treatment and many who would not receive it in time, for three days this battle had been going on and there does not seem to be a sign of when it will end.

"Sefri Anvilheart!" called a soldier; she looked over to the entrance of the baths and saw a young Gondorion solider who was obviously looking for her "Sefri Anvilheart!"

"I am Sefri Anvilheart" she called to him, he rushed over and before she could even ask why he was searching for her he relayed his message to her.

"You have been called to the Northern Section of the city, there are many wounded there who need your help" he said quickly, before straightening up and appearing as if he was about to rush off to either battle or hide.

"What? But I still have patients here, and many of them are still coming in" Sefri tried to say, but her words were not heard as he spoke again.

"There are more wounded there than here, and it would seem that these ones are in better condition than the ones up north." He replied, his tone may show her understood, but he was rushing Sefri to make up her mind.

Sefri's brow furrowed, she could leave them right now there were still wounded being carried in, she could see that in the time she had been talking to this man eight more wounded had been carried in and laid down next to the others. Damn it, she cursed under her breath, if she left more people would die without her care, she needed to keep these people alive, she felt two of them die a moment later, she cursed under her breath again, without any kind of support she had to make the hard choice on who to save and who to sacrifice. She knew a spell that could help some but the more seriously wounded would not survive, she closed her eyes before turning back to the four rows of injured before her, she raised her hands and extended them forward and a moment later her entire form was shrouded with holy light. The Gondorian soldier took a step back while the others cast their gaze to the woman before them, then the light exploded from around her and six globes of light shot forward down the three aisles, one stopped a third of a way through and other just a third of the way short of the end.

Soon floating in mid-air were golden basins that contained a glowing stream of water within, as the beacon glowed small sparks of light shot out and flew towards an injured patient and disappeared within his body, this happened dozens of times on the people around the golden cup, light would appear and travel to the nearest person. Sefri looked on and saw that the ones she healed will only require a few hours near it to fully heal them, but the severely wounded, she could only hope it keeps them alive long enough for her to return to treat them properly.

"Arantar, get the ones I healed back to the medical tents, they are no longer in danger of dying, get as many people as you can and place them near the **Beacons of Light**" she said, the old man nodded without question, she turned around to the flabbergasted soldiers and commanded him. "Take me to the wounded."

The soldier nodded dumbly before turning around and marching off, Sefri following close behind, she offered one last glance to the wounded who were still coming in and the healed who were being dragged off, she hoped that it would be enough, she turned away as she ran around the corner and hoped that she returned soon, those Beacons won't last forever.

Sefri run through the war torn city with the young soldier leading her, she could hear the once faint sound of battle now that much closer, she could also hear commands from both man an orc being shouted across the battlefield as well as the sound of other inhumanly things. It wasn't long however that the sound of battle was soon replaced with the real thing, three orcs saw them and attacked, their weapons raised high and their features contorted into a fierce snarl, the Gondorian soldier faltered at the sight of them. He didn't even try to grab his sword, to scare he was to even reach for it, but Sefri shot past him and towards the foul creatures, their dark skin and animalistic tendencies reminded her of the Dragonmaw orcs of the Hinterlands, the mere thought of them brought up horrid flashes in her mind. She dispelled them quickly, needing to focus on the task at hand rather than those of the past, she gripped her staff tightly and rushed at them at full speed, a small plan of attack forming in her mind and the likelihood of if it could be pulled off.

The first was upon her just as she decided on the attack, swinging its sword down at her with hands it hoped to cleave her in two, but was shocked when Sefri dodged to the side and using the remains of the wall along with her staff she jumped into the air and used the wall as second jump point to leap over and around the first orc and kick the head of the second. She planted her foot into the side of its head and drove it into the stone tiled floor, but as she fell with the orcs body she raised her palm to the third orc and with a quick chant she struck the beast, "**Smite!**" The orc was knocked off its feet and its chest was burnt through with holy fire, though the creature was not undead or demonic, the evil that created it was enough for the holy light to recognise it was an wicked and unjust being that deserved its wrath. She turned to the first orc and raised her staff as its sword came down upon her again, she felt the weapon bite into the shaft of Endless Winter, she threw the weapon aside and then thrust her weapon into the orcs chest, the spike on the top of her weapon piercing the orcs chest and likely heart, before chanting again "**Smite!**"

The orcs chest blew open with a burst of holy fire and was thrown away, Sefri looked up from the corpse to the shocked human warrior before her, she may be a priest but that didn't mean she didn't know how to dish out the pain to the evil and cruel when she wanted to. She motioned him to lead on and he did, they rushed through the maze that was Osgiliath, running into soldiers and orcs on multiple occasion, since then the soldier had gotten his wits about him and drawn his sword when he needed to. She kept him safe and made sure that no harm came to him, as she slew another orc with a 'Smite' of her staff she heard a dark howl from a courtyard not too far from her position. She climbed up an old set of stairs and looked on to see a large orc on an even larger Worg leading a small army down the Men Aglar, the main road which lead from the port, through the city and to the Golden Gates into Gondor, killing dozens of soldiers as they went, she scowled, this one was likely the cause of all the casualties they had been sustaining over the last few days.

"Young man" she said, not turning away from the large orc to speak with him "Go find Faramir, tell him we need help, there is a massive orc force pushing its way through Men Aglar, bring him here, I won't be able to hold them all off for long"

Before the young Gondor soldier could ask she leap off the wall and onto the muddy ground on the other side of the street, she had found what was likely the leader of these orcs and she wasn't going to pass up the chance to kill it and end this threat once and for all. She rushed through the street and past fleeing soldiers and ranger, she could see that many of them were not willing to die to try and halt that juggernaut ahead of them, or the army that followed, she could understand and she would do what they couldn't, she would bring down her vengeance upon them, one enemy at a time.

* * *

**Northern Osgiliath, the Common Hollows**

Faramir fired an arrow from behind a raised wall, he along with over a dozen rangers were holding off a small army of orcs and goblins that breached the southernmost defences and move up to the north, effectively separating his army in two, the Prince had a few hundred men under his command and was trying to hold off the orcs until reinforcements arrived. He turned to shoot another but was forced back when three arrows flew towards him, one passing just where his had been a few moments ago, he peeked around the corner to see a group of goblins had taken up positions on the rooftops of the buildings on the other side of the street. He pulled out of cover quickly and then released his arrow, not stopping he spun into covered at the adjacent wall of where he stood a few moments ago, he couldn't tell over the sound of battle if his arrow hit its mark. Just as he drew another arrow one of his men fell to the ground dead, an arrow protruding through his neck, he grimaced as he peeked around the corner and was forced back as an arrow struck on the end of his stone cover.

He cursed to himself, his men were caught between a rock and hard place, there were effectively cut off from escaping and couldn't defend themselves properly or respond with a counter attack, since they had more swords than bows they couldn't cut them down from a distance. The worst part is they had to scavenge from the dead in order to keep up with the ever increasing number of enemy archers and orcs that keep pressing their position, which was as dangerous as sticky their head out to see what was going on. He knew that the orcs in the street were fighting against the dwindling soldiers while the goblins kept the defenders pinned behind their cover and killing anyone that is human, he needed reinforcements now, and he just hoped that the team he sent to retrieve Sefri arrives safely. She may be a healer but if they can return with her and reinforcement they can stop these creatures, she can inflict as much damage as she can heal it, and right now that is something he needed, he needed to get rid of those archers before they either killed all of theirs or killed to many men below for the orcs on the ground to decide to come up and come for them.

He pulled out of cover and sent an arrow whistling through the air towards an unsuspecting goblin, he didn't see the kill but knew that it had struck; he was rewarded when he peeked around to send another arrow to see that a goblin was now on the ground dead. He send his arrow at another goblin and was rewarded with a similar gift, as was another ranger as the goblin right next to it fell off the side of the building with an arrow in its chest, he ducked just as a hail of arrow assaulted his position. He looked over to see one of his men was not fast enough in his efforts and took an arrow to the shoulder, he fell to the ground with a cry of pain before he remembered where he was and dragged himself back behind cover, for the next few minutes this happened on, they would strike when they could and the unlucky few that were not fast enough paid for it.

He looked over to send an arrow to another goblin, he could safely say he had killed ten goblins and about a dozen more were unconfirmed, but in a thirty minute period that was very poor, he looked around and saw that over half of his rangers were wounded or dead, this was getting bad. When he pulled out to send his arrow he saw three goblins spasm before dropping to the ground, multiple arrows puncturing their backs, he looked off to the south to see over a dozen rangers bearing down on the orcs and goblins from an even higher vantage point. Sending out quick and accurate bursts of arrows they withered down the surprised goblins and orcs with ease, he smirked as he let loose his arrow, his arrow sailed through the air and struck an orc in the throat, it crasped at its neck as blood spurted out and drenched the ground as well as its hands, before tumbling forward and onto the ground. He saw no need to hide anymore, the goblins and orcs were in disarray, they were running around frantically trying to decide who they should attack and who they should not, he sent another arrow to one of the few remaining goblins on the top of the building, the arrow piercing its back as it let out a howl of pain before collapsing to the ground to writhe in said pain.

He drew another arrow but the last of the creatures were struck before he could even bring it to string, he looked down at the battlefield below to see new soldiers driving back orcs from a small courtyard in the centre of the Hollows. He rushed over to the nearby edge that overlooked the courtyard, he saw his men turning the tide now that they were no longer being troubled by the archers, he could see the many of death that were beneath the one walking over them to meet their adversaries, this battle alone had cost them hundreds of troops. He moved off to the stairs and down the court below, ready to aid his men in whatever way he could, as he stepped onto the muddy ground of the Common Hollow he his feet sunk down into the cold blood and water drenched soil. Pulling his feet free he trudged along, moving past the remains of orcs and man who were partially hidden beneath the surface, some of their faces felt familiar to him, likely men he had passed by once or fought alongside on certain missions, it was disappointing to his that he could not put names to those recognisable faces.

As he walked further through the battlefield, he saw his men on the other side of the courtyard fighting off any remaining orcs and then pushing further east towards the bay, a voice called out to him and as he turned he saw the one man he had expected to come to his rescue his second in command, Madril.

"My Lord, are you alright?" he asked, Faramir nodded and turned to the soldiers that followed him, he could see over two hundred men but knew that more were likely there with him.

"What is the current situation with the orcs?" asked Faramir, turning and moving off to check on the status of the battle that is taking place a few yard from him, Madril followed closely behind.

"The Orcs have diverted most of their forces here to the Hollows and to the Houses of Healing in the south, we've been forced to bring all of our forces here to fight them off." said Madril

"They must be moving to the Condir Gates, this place is mostly abandoned they must have thought they could get out of the city with ease through the Common Hollows" said Faramir, stopping momentarily to think of his next move, now that they were pushing the orcs back they could move to clear out the northern most parts of Osgiliath and then move off to the rest of the city.

"My Lord!" called out a soldier, Faramir looked to see a young Gondorian knight rushing towards him, he remembered her was one of the few he sent to collect the Priestess. "Sir an orc force is moving Men Aglar; the men are being slaughtered sir!"

It was those words that made the Ranger General's blood run cold, the orc were moving up the Men Aglar, but the main orc force had attacked them here, surely there couldn't be a force large enough to break through the men that remained in the southern section of the city. He turned to his second and saw the many men behind him, the men who were most likely guarding the southern parts of the city only a few minutes ago before they were forced up here to save him and his men, they were lured here to allow the orcs free roam through the main street and eventually into Gondor. He turned back to the man.

"Where are they now?" he shouted, quickly trying to discover how far they have travelled so that he could try and hopefully cut them off before they escape into Gondor.

"Narmacilian square, they were moving towards it when I left, not some twenty minutes ago"

"Damn it, they could be at the Gate by n-" before he could finish he heard the sound of a large explosion and then far to the south a pillar of golden light shot up into the heavens above, going over fifty feet into their air before it dispersed. The warriors were captivated by the show and lost in thought for some time, when they saw it they felt almost as if a divine power itself had come to help them in this battle, it was when Faramir spoke again that snapped those around him out of their reverie.

"Where is Sefri?"

* * *

**Narmacilian square (_Twenty Minutes Ago_)**

As the orcs marched through the streets killing any foolish human that came their way, either cut down by the orcs swords or crushed between the massive jaws of the Warg which their leader sat upon, Zlog couldn't help but let out a guttural chuckle at how easy he outwitted these humans. How now he was bringing over five hundred orc into Gondor, the first stepping stone to invasion, when they achieve victory here they could begin their invasion, first Gondor then the rest of the West. But they came to a stop to the scene before them, a dozen dead orcs, their bodies burnt to a crisp and bludgeoned in the chest or head, and standing in the middle of it all was a single Dwarf with a staff as tall as she was and with a serene smile on her face.

"Ah you have arrived, though I would welcome you to Osgiliath, I am going to have to ask you to leave peacefully" she said calmly and pleasantly, though her words were laced with a layer of seriousness that made it apparent that her request was anything but.

"Kill her" that was the only words that came out of the Warg riding orc's mouth, there was a shout of acknowledgement from the orcs, and a few charged forward to claim the kill on the unknown female.

All the while she stood there standing immobile and waiting for what was in their minds her inevitable death, but in truth she was just waiting for them to get close, Sefri let out an exasperated breath before she twisted her staff in her hand and then swung it in a wide arc.

"**Holy Fire!**" she bellowed, then a wave of golden flame emerged from her staff and struck the orcs before her, they halted and began to writhe in pain on the ground as their bodies were slowly consumed by the flame. Sefri saw one leap over one of its comrades and rushed forward to attack, she narrowed her eyes at the creature, she pointed her palm at the creature and chanted "**Smite!**" the creature was knocked back by an unknown force which manifested in a explosions of golden light. She caught out of the corner of her eye three orcs approaching from the right, had she not seen them she would have definitely heard them, she turned on them with her staff in her hands and ready to use it, the first brought its sword down upon her.

She raised her staff and blocked it along the shaft of the weapon, knocking the weapon to the side she released her grip on her staff with one hand and twisted around before bringing said palm up and an inch from the orc's chest, she cast a point blank 'Smite' and knocked the creature off its feet and away from her. She saw the second one and quickly spun the staff in her right hand up to parry the incoming weapon, she then countered with her own; she spun the weapon over her head before slashing the head piece at the orc's neck, the metal barbs along the sides of the circular ornament cutting through the soft muscle of the throat. Once the orc fell away, its hand clinging at its throat trying to stem the bleeding, she was attacked by the third, it went to impale her head with its brutish weapon, and she twisted the staff in her left hand and with the two-branched pommel she deflected the attack and pinned the weapon to the ground, trapping the orc for her counter. Her staff had pinned the orcs weapon and was now the head piece was running up along the length of the orc's weapon and arm with the headpiece, mainly the sharps barbs along its edges, aiming for the orcs skull, seeing as she believed in Karma, she would repay him for his slight with one of her own.

She then shot the staff up and at the orcs throat, the metal barb at the top of the headpiece digging into the orcs thick throat, the orc shuddered and choked as its neck was opened up, she quickly withdrew the weapon and then spun her weapon overhead, just as the orc fell to its knees, and then smashed it into the side of the orc head, sending another barb into its brain, killing it instantly. After she put the orc out of its misery she saw the army before her and knew that even though she was alone she would stand little chance against them, oh how she wished Varro were here sometimes, she may not be able to stop them but she could slow them, and maybe long enough for someone to organise an effective counter attack or light willing: rescue her. She looked at the army before her, she knew that if she just charged in she would be slaughtered; she needed to plan this out and quickly before they got impatient and attacked, and she looked to the Warg-rider who seemed to be an officer of some kind in this army. If she could kill him then these creatures would be leaderless and if she was right they wouldn't leave while he is fighting, but still she couldn't fight off an entire army, then it hit her, as long as they could see but not act then she could keep the enemy immobile long enough for someone to come.

She had a plan and all she needed to do was carry it out, she could see the orcs were about to charge and when they did so would she, she spun her staff in her hands and then pulled it back while crouching, waiting for them to strike. Then with a roar the Warg rider ordered his army forward, they bellowed as they brandished their weapons and charged, Sefri sprang into action, going into a sprint she charged against the coming wave of orcs, she pointed her staff forward and chanted a single Smite, but instead of killing an orc she brought it to its knees. As she neared it and the hundred or so other orcs she leapt on its shoulder, using it's as a jump point, before leaping into the air, souring over the orcs around her thanks to here levitation spell, she glided over the mass of orcs and towards the Warg Rider, she grabbed her staff with both hands and pointed the headpiece towards the ground. As she descended she slammed the weapon into the ground and an eruption of fire enveloped the area around the priestess, fire consumed everything in a twenty metre radius of the Dwarven priestess, cries of pain and shock erupted form the orcs as their bodies were burnt to a crisp. When it was all over there was Sefri kneeling in the middle of a charred street with her staff imbedded in the ground, rising and looking around see saw a small ring of fire prevented the orcs from entering her little arena.

Looking around a little more she saw that several orcs had survived the ordeal, but she couldn't see the Warg Rider in sight, was he dead? Or did she miss him entirely? Damn it she needed him here, she was pulled out of her thoughts where she heard a loud bellow from behind her. She turned on her heels and saw the orc with its massive axe overhead, her eyes widened before her staff moved to block the attack but she knew it would be enough, with a quick chant she cried "**Power Word: Shield!**" the axe came down and as soon as it struck her staff it was forced away by a barrier of golden light. The orc stumbled backwards and it was then that she struck, stepping forward she twisted her staff and using the spikes on the headpiece cut a deep gauge in the orcs exposed chest, it swayed to the right before collapsing to its hands and knees, no longer facing the priestess. It tried to lift itself up to continue on fighting, but what came next only put an end to its life, Sefri spun on her heel and with her staff above her, as the orc rose to its knees she struck by sending her staff into the orcs face, the metal spike sinking into its skull and metal crusting the bone. The orcs corpse jolted backwards and onto the ground, Sefri gave the body a momentary glance before focusing on her surroundings, she saw seven orcs that had miraculously survive the attack which were moving to kill her. The priestess went rigid as she watched them approach, several scenarios playing in her mind as she planned out how this battle could go, she let her eyes wonder to the flaming ring that prevented the army of orcs from swarming her like a black tide of death, she knew that it would last only so long before it disappeared and they were no longer barred. She looked towards the shouting orc a few feet to her left, its sword raised in its left hand and its shield strapped to its right, she gripped her staff tightly; she could do nothing but hope her gambit works, with a cry she charged forward ready to meet the orc.

Zlog lifted himself from the mud, his entire form was raw, and from the force that knocked him and his Warg on their backs and the flame that accompanied it, he was experiencing a very painful after effect of surviving a large explosion. As soon as he sat up he was able to see his Warg on its feet and panting, its thick black fur had been burnt away in large patches across its face, back and front legs, looking over his wounded mount he saw the cause of its and his injuries, a wall of flames had nearly seperated the Man Aglar. Lifting himself from the mud he peered to the warriors around him, all of them were gazing into the fire, he looked to what had garnered their attention and saw the reason behind his current physical state and the font of his now building anger, the Dwarf who was currently killing the remaining warrior that had survived the fire. He snarled at the indignation that he had suffered, he had been brought low by a short woman whose only weapon was a stick with a ring on the end, though she had magic that was not registered in his mind, the burning fact of her being a woman is what was fuelling his rage at the moment.

He rushed over to his mount and leapt into its saddle, ignoring its pained and vexed howl, and ordered the beast over the flames; the animal did not approach but instead stepped back warily, unwilling to obey its master command lest it be burnt alive by the unnatural flames. Zlog bashed his mace into the animal's flank to get it moving, the creature let out another howl, it may not want to leap over the fire but it also didn't want to displease its master, it pulled back a few more steps before it leaned back and took off towards the wall of fire. It leapt into the air and into the fire, its skin and fur burning even more as it made contact with the golden blaze, its rider was only assaulted by the heat but not touched in the slightest, as the mount landed it let out a few panted breaths and whimpers as the fire had burnt its underside. Zlog looked before the battlefield and saw the remains of dozens of orcs, most had been burnt to a crisp while others had smashed skulls or gashes along their throats; he looked to the cause of this and saw the Dwarf finishing off the last orc. Her staff sinking into the back of its knee, bringing the orc low, she ripped it free before spinning on her heels from the back of the orc's right side to its front, to deliver a devastating blow to its face, the sound of bone cracking could be heard as the sharp barb dug even further into its skull that that of the haloed headpiece of her staff. He roared and slammed his metal boots into the Warg side forcing it to charge despite its agony, it obeyed its master and rushed towards the dwarf, raising his sword in the air he readied to use it should the dwarf try to dodge the attack, he wanted blood and wasn't going to stop until he spilled every last drop of hers.

Sefri ripped her staff free from the orc caved in skull, she grimaced at the flesh and blood that had accumulated onto her staff, she would need to clean it after this was all over, and she looked down to see that her cloths could use a good cleaning as well. She couldn't help but chuckle at what her mind was thinking, she was in the middle of a burning circle surrounded by hundreds of orcs and she was thinking of her own hygiene, although a bath did seem nice, she couldn't see herself surviving the next few minutes, that wall of fire would collapse and she would be open to attack. Just as the orcs corpse hit the ground she heard an animalistic howl from behind, she whirled on her feet and brought her staff up to guard, but what she saw was a large Warg running at her, she was shocked for a moment, which only left her a few seconds to leap out of the way. She twisted as she descended and when she hit the ground she rolled to her feet, she looked at the massive warg and grimaced at the condition it was in, she was actually surprised to see it still standing, its entire body was a mess. Much of its hide had been burnt off, its stomach and parts of its side and head showed its dark grey skin which had been discoloured by the holy flames, she could see its breaths were laboured; she could see the pain in its eyes as easy as she could in its quivering body.

Looking up to the rider she saw its had similar burns, across its arms and chest, but unlike its mount who had been likely forced to suffer a second dose of pain, his eyes gleamed with anger and bloodlust, and cared not for him steed as he mercilessly slammed his metal greaves into the beast flanks. The Warg roared in both anger and pain, the font of that rage whether it be its rider or the dwarf could not be known, Sefri prepared herself for the oncoming attack, grasping her staff tightly and loosening her stance to allow better movement she waited and watched. The Warg charged her at full stride, despite its pain, Sefri had only a few seconds to take grasp of the situation, the speed of the creature and its rider position and weapon before she reacted, before she sidestepped to the right and twisting her staff into a reverse hold to block the coming swing of the orcs sword. When the weapon connected she dissipated its force by angling her staff to allow the sword to slide along it, sparks flew as it moved along the metal and caught several times over the uneven edge, and she turned to face them as they passed by.

The time between attacks was short giving her only a moment to react, she stepped aside as the Warg's jaw threatened to clamp down on her, she counter both the Wargs attack with a single swipe of her staff to the side of its face, and deflecting the orcs sword by swinging her staff at it as it descended. She leapt away from the beast as it recovered, shaking its burn and now bruised head, this carried on for a short while, Sefri defended against the attacks and then would counter where she could, but none were able to land on the orc riding the surprisingly durable mount. She had delivered several crushing blows to the head, which had taken one of its eyes and torn away much more of its hide and left whatever black fur it had a darker shade from the blood that was now dripping from its skull, as well as several gashes to its side. But through it all the mount had performed valiantly, even though it was short of an animal she knew that she couldn't let it live as it was, she could see that the pain in its only remaining eye was begging for it to end, she grasped her staff and vowed the next strike would end its life and light willing that of the orc who rides it.

Sefri looked to the field in front of her and tried to see if there was anything she could use to her advantage, there were orc corpses and a few of their weapons but nothing she could use to defend herself with properly, she couldn't use a sword or axe to any degree of skill. There was little she could take advantage of that would give her an advantage over the orc, she knew if she could catch him off guard and exploits his position then she could finish him with little effort, but how would she go about it. Then she thought of it, she smiled to herself a little, knowing that the coming attack would put both the orc and the Warg out of their misery, she let he staff fall into one hand and planned out how everything was going to go. When she was ready, she looked once at the orc and saw his impatient and feral eyes on her, Sefri rushed forward to meet the orc head on, seeing this the orc forced his mount forward, he gripped his sword in hand waited for her to come to him.

Sefri slowed her pace to allow the Warg to come closer, she needed to time this right, she saw its large maw open wide to greet her but she did not bat an eye at the sharp blood soaked teeth, she saw her chance and then she raised her palm forward. "**Smite!**" she called, but not to the Warg, but one of the dead orcs that lay within her path, the spell did not exactly strike the orc but the ground beneath it, forcing to dead creature onto its knees for a few moment, which was all she needed in order to do what she had to. As she ran she grasped a sword that was rooted into the ground and pulled it free, wielding a crude short sword in her left hand with her staff in the other, she leapt onto the now kneeling orcs shoulder and used it as a jump point, she sailed through the air and above the Wargs scarred head and maw. The Warg was given no time to compensate for the drastic tactic that the Dwarf used, it could only see red in its vision and only the figure of the orc that was once on the ground, and it was because of this delay that finally put an end to its life, it did not suffer as the priestess landed on its crown and then drove its sword through its skull.

Sefri landed on the Warg's head and drove the sword through its thick skull, the sword pierced right through up to the hilt, she felt the beast begin to tumble forward; its gravity shifting forward as it was about to trip over its own feet. Seeing that she had little time to leap away she moved to kill the orcs, she stepped forward with her staff pulled back and went for a thrust and a "**Smite!**", but as she went to attack the orc made his own, she could see its sword moving down towards her unprotected head, ready to split it in twain. She was able to side step the attack, the blade digging sinking into the Warg's cranium as it made contact, but was unable to keep her balance on the back of the Warg mount; she fell back towards the ground as the beast tumbled forward, she thrust her staff towards the orc to deliver the fatal spell, the barb of the Endless Winter striking the orc shoulder. With a quick chant she delivered her attack, and watched in satisfaction and revulsion as the orc lost its arms and part of its shoulder to the attack, before it was knocked free from its mount and flew back towards the cold ground.

Sefri fell to the ground and rolled as soon as she made contact, mud and pain made its way over her entire form as she came to an abrupt stop, she looked up to see the Warg slide along its side before coming to a similar halt, she let out a ragged breath before getting to her feet, that wasn't how she expected it to end, but she couldn't complain about the result. She felt her back ache as she stood up a little too quickly, okay maybe she could complain how things turned out, she looked over to the smouldering orc a few feet from her, its entire left arm and part of its shoulder gone, it was sprawled on its back and still held its sword in a death grip in its only remaining hand. She moved to reclaim her staff which she lost as she fell to the ground, taking a few pained steps forward she realised that she must have done more damage than she thought, she pressed her hands against her chest and found that her ribs were bruised based on the pain, she moved her hand over her chest and began to heal herself. She couldn't be injured when the fire wall dispersed and the other orcs attacked her, she had little chance of survival as it was lowering it anymore was just not something she needed, closing her eyes she took in a deep breath and smiled as she felt the light coursed through her, healing any cuts and bruises that accumulated from her fall.

She felt her pain subside and her body was flown into bliss as the holy light gave her comfort in both body and mind, it was the one thing she could count on to keep her from falling into despair, she finished her spell and as she opened her eye she looked to her staff a few feet away. The arcane energies within the ring ever constantly churning, she moved to pick it up but stopped, out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur moving towards her, quickly turning to address this threat she was shocked to see the one armed orc charging at her. It swung its sword down at her, quickly jumping to the side she avoided the killing strike, but as she evaded she was forced away from her weapon and her only item that would protect her from the cold steel of the orc's sword, which soon met purchase. When she leapt to the side she was assaulted again, the sword coming at her in a wide arc, she was able to dodge but still suffered a shallow wound along the side of her stomach and abdomen; she grimaced as a small amount of blood flew free from her wound and began to drench her already dirty clothing.

She look up to see the orc swinging his sword towards her again, she ducked under the attack and moved under his guard, she delivered a quick jab to his side and he stumbled only slightly before her countered with his own attack. He swung his sword back to meet her, but luckily for her she was too close to meet the steel, but unluckily she was too close to dodge the orcs arc that was veering toward her head, the orcs forearm struck her along her forehead and knocked Sefri on her back. She moved around groggily as she tried to remove the dizziness that was currently affecting her, she looked up to see the orc standing overhead with its sword poised to impale her, as its descended toward her chest she brought up her hand and tried to bat it away, she was only slightly successful. The blade did not pierce her chest, but it did pierce her side, just between the third and fourth rib, she screamed in agony as the cold steel plunged through her flesh, she looked up at the orc to see his angry eyes boring in her own, maybe it was because of this anger the cause him to slowly twist the blade, she let out another pained cry. She felt her entire side burn with pain, from the wound that was inflicted from the orcs first strike to the one that was now being slowly pressed upon by its blade, she could barely keep herself from fading in and out of consciousness, she had used a lot of Mana over the last few days and she couldn't recover quickly enough.

She forced her right hands up and pointed it at the orc, she knew this spell required a good amount of concentration to perform but she didn't think she would have enough time not the capability to do it, she looked up and slowly her hand began to become shrouded in dark energy that pulsed and flickered. With a strained yell she chanted the spell "**Mind Blast!**" the energy on her hand shot up towards the orc and struck him dead in the chest, its body convulsed as the energy moved over his chest and seeped into his form, soon every orrifce on his body was alight as the dark energy shot out from his eyes and mouth. His body was being torn apart from the inside out and there was nothing he could do about it, he shot back and away from the attack, ripping to sword free from her side as well as tearing away her concentration in maintaining the spell, she gasped in pain as the wound not lay open and bare, blood began to seep freely and the pain returned in greatest intensity. All the while the orc was on his last leg trying to rise to his feet, but the spell had torn through him and caused dozens of internal injuries, it used its sword as a support to keep itself from falling on its face and it could only move its head without feeling agonising pain. And when it did it saw the Dwarf slowly getting to her feet, based on how she moved she was also in a great deal of discomfort, Sefri moved to reclaim her staff and finish off that blasted orc before the spell cast on him did him in, she may be a priest who was kind and gentle but she was not above vengeance.

She retrieved her staff and with it firmly in her hands she turned onto the cause of her discomfort, the one armed orc who was on deaths doorstep, she would make sure he is delivered to it in the most painful wait he deserves. Bringing up her staff she begins to pour her Mana into the next spell, all the while chanting the word to bring it to full power, her words were soothing yet dark, the incantation created a swirl of dark purple energy along the ring of her headpiece, the spell was finished now she needed it to be cast. Pointing her staff towards the downed and beaten orc, ready to finish him off and earn her retribution for the pain he inflicted upon her, with a cold and merciless tone she chanted "**Shadow Word: Death!**". The dark energy shot out from her staff in a whirl of dark clouds, they raced towards the orc and struck him all over his body, he screamed as the dark magic course through his veins and killed him in the most painful way imaginable, his body was slowly being forced to decay and rot. Soon the energy encompassed his entire body, its scream were muted as the dark energy swirled over its formed like a black cloak, it only lasted for a second before it dispersed into nothing, leaving on a kneeling dried up husk of an one armed orc, who still grasped onto its sword.

Sefri took in several deep breaths before she examined herself, she could see the stab wound on her side just below her breast, as well as the slash that went over her stomach and waist, she could only turn to look at them, any other sort of movement resulted in burning pain shooting up her side. She didn't have much Mana left and she could feel that the spell that maintained the ring of fire was beginning to fade, she had maybe a minute or two before the orcs could get through without being hurt, maybe more if they weren't feeling up to jumping through fire, she couldn't heal herself and then try and maintain the wall, hell she didn't think she had enough to do their effectively. She knew that the barriers would fail eventually, so why not make sure that she was in top physical condition before they arrived, she placed her hand on her stab wound and began to heal it, she felt the muscle and skin slowly nit itself back together. And as her body was slowly healed she could hear the sound of the orc eagerly shouting and cheering as the wall of flame began to fall, she had maybe half a minute before they attack, not enough time to heal her gash but enough to get rid of the wound that went right through her. As soon as her wounded closed so did the flames disappear, she turned quickly and with relief found that her movements were not as impaired as they were before, she looked on as dozens of orcs charged at her from every possible angle, she smiled to herself, and she didn't expect this is how it was going to end.

She turned to the first orc and with a thrust of her palm she struck him with a 'Smite', he fell back to the ground his chest burnt and morphed from the impact, before turning towards another and swinging at its exposed stomach with her staff, and was rewarded with the spike cutting through flesh and muscle to carve through any vital organs. She turned as another sent its sword to stab her, she knocked it aside with a swing of her staff, she twisted the staff as it swung in a wide arc until it flew up and rested along her shoulder and move up behind and past her head, pointing towards the orc she just defended against. "**Penance!**" she uttered, and a single orc of light shot out from her staff and into the orcs head, burning the skin from its face and cracking the now exposed bones, the staff flew off of her shoulder from the force of the spell and pointed to another incoming orc just opposite her, she uttered the chant again and was rewarded with a similar result. The orc flew off its feet, the flesh of its chest burn away and its heart with its charred and broken ribs exposed for all to see, she looked around quickly to determine her next viable target, three orcs were coming from her right, two from her left, four at her back and six ahead of her, this was going to get messy.

Seeing the six ahead of her she decided to get rid of the majority over the others, she took her staff into a reverse grip and like a Troll Head-hunter she hurled her staff like a spear at one of the oncoming orcs, she didn't watch at it struck the leading orc in the chest, instead she raised both help palms and aimed at two orcs coming at her on either side. "Smite!" she bellowed, striking both orcs simultaneously and knocking them off their feet, she then looked up and then rushed towards the orc that had been impaled on the barb of her staff headpiece, going as quickly as she could she reached the now falling orc and ran up his body retrieving her staff and then leaping over his head toward the orc behind him. She planted her feet onto its chest and drove the barb of her staff into its throat, she knocking the orc onto its back and then quickly withdrew her weapon to defend herself from the next one, she swung her staff at the orc only for it to block her attack. She twisted the staff in her hands and brought the end of her staff up to knock the blade of out the orcs grip, she continued her twirl and with an upward swung she dug a deep gouge from its groin to chest, and she turned to the three coming at her from the right and retaliated.

She rushed to meet them, her staff in her hands and already aware of how this little battle was going to turn out, the first brought its sword down upon her, she quickly parried the attack and knocked the orc off balance to her left, she turned to the one on her right and stabbed her staff forward. The staff struck the orc in the chest, but did not kill it, she ripped it free and then sent it to the now recovering orc to her left, and she sunk it into the back of its knee, eliciting a cry of pain before it fell onto its hands and knees. She caught the third orc in the corner of her eye, she raised her staff to block the creatures axe, she grunted as the pain in her side returned and was distracting her, she quickly twisted the axe off of her staff and onto the ground, the orc stumbled forward and impaled itself on the barn at the top of her staff. With a quick chant "**Penance!**" the orc was thrown free from the weapon, its throat burnt away into nothing leaving a mangled spinal column to keep the head attached to the body, she turned to the orc that was on its knees after having the back of its knee cut open and delivered a similar end to the back of its head. Its body crashed into the ground with a very audible crash, a large smoking hole now resides at the back and front of it skull leaving little flesh or other soft tissue, she didn't have time to examine the effects of a penance at close range as she was attacked by the third and final orc.

She ducked under its pathetic attack and swung her staff at its knee as she passed under the swing and moved to the orcs right side; she dragged her weapon back letting the barb along the edge cut through the tender flesh, the orc fell forward and she swung around Endless Winter and pierced the orcs throat. She ripped her staff out as quickly as she had sunk it in, tearing out half of the orcs neck before pointing it towards the seven orcs that were coming at her, took in their positions and planned out her counterattack accordingly, she shot out an orb of light from her staff, she killed three before the others were upon her. She swung her staff at an oncoming sword and knocked it away; she placed her hand on the orcs flank and uttered a 'Smite!' sending the orc barrelling several metres away from her and the other combatants. She saw them charging at her win a triangular formation, two up front and the last behind the other two, she saw the opportunity to kill them all in a quickly, running at them in full stride she ducked and weaved through the first two orcs and their sword and moved onto the third. She speared her staff forward and sunk her barb into the orcs chest, as he fell back Sefri rushed up his form and leapt from his chest using her levitation ability she leapt off the orc and sailed through the air, when she landed behind the two flabbergasted orc she raised both her palms and uttered a single chant.

"**Smite!**" Both orcs were blown away from the attack and landed beside the now dead third orc, she lowered her palms and took a deep breath, before she heard a fierce howl from behind, she looked behind her to see six orcs approaching, then she gaze around the see even more were coming from every other direction. She chuckled to herself, she thought this was over, well it's her own fault for thinking positively, she spared only a moment to pray that her sacrifice was worth it and take in another calming breath, her eyes shot open and then rushed over to her staff, pulling if free she kept running towards the other orcs, she felt her head spin a little and fatigue wear in, her Mana was low and it was only decreasing. She fought with as much ferocity as she could muster, using whatever spells she could and trying to make sure she used her staff more than her magic, but as time went on and the number of dead began to pile up she realised that she could only hold on for so long.

She felt her entire body quake with pain, her adrenaline and mental discipline stemming the worst of it, but it would only take her so far before she either bled to death or just collapsed and took in the soothing sensation of unconsciousness. Her entire body was marred with dozens of cuts and wounds, her left arm had been broken, a lucky shot from a sword had struck her, but she was lucky her arm hadn't been completely torn off; her robes were drenched in as much blood as it was mud. She could feel the warmth of her own blood on her skin, which was slightly worrying to her as her body felt very cold, she could feel her vision swim with different colours as she tried to defend herself and counter, but sadly she could do only poorly in either regards, she felt her life slipping away and she was powerless to stop it.

Another attack from behind send a shallow gash into her shoulder and lower back, she didn't scream, but groaned as the pain slowly subsided as did all her other outer senses, she couldn't concentrate on what was happening around her or how to defend herself. She expected that she would have been killed quickly, but to her own sorrow the orcs were taking their time with her, coming at her one at a time now to see how long she could keep going, though she loathed this idea she had to thank the light that she was able to give the defenders more time to retaliate. She saw one come to attack from the front, she raised her staff to stop it, but her flimsy grip allow her weapon to be knocked from her grasp, she stumbled away but remained standing, for a moment at least, until an orc fist connected with her jaw and knocked her onto her hands and knees. She could only stair at the ground as she waited for what was likely going to be the final blow, she could see the orcs feet in her peripheral vision, its metal greave sinking into the muddy ground, this was it; this was the end. Her heart was sad that she could not return to her world and know if it had survived, but she always doubted she would ever return, for how could she? She had no idea if there was anything powerful enough to send her back or even if there was if it would.

But she was content in the fact that the defenders would be given enough time to stop these beasts, she had given the enough, she turned to look at the orc that was standing above her, he was snarling and lifting a large two handed axes over his head, to deliver the executioners strike. She was at least put at ease that her death would be somewhat painless, as she turned back to look down she saw something on the orcs waist, four white orbs were tied to the orcs belt, she could make out that they were all irregular and vary slightly in size and quality. She narrowed her eyes so see what they were, and when she did her eyes widened, they were skulls, human skulls, but not of a fully grown man or woman, they were small and appeared to be still forming, they were children skulls. The orc arch his back to prepare for the swing, Sefri couldn't believe what she was looking at, they murdered children and took their skulls as trophies, the mere sight of them was enough to resurface long supressed memories that she frantically wished to claw from her own mind. She remembered the faces of many friends, colleagues, children she had known when she was younger, she remembered all the good times and the fun they had, she remembered the laughs, the songs - the blood.

She could remember the screams as they were slaughtered by the Dragonmaw orcs, she remembered the men dying to protect the woman and children, she could smell the blood in the air, she watched from afar as they tore through her home and murder everyone she cared about. And she was powerless to do anything about it, she could feel the tears falling from her eyes, just like all those years ago, she felt the sorrow and anguish for those that had fallen, she could remember those innocent children's cries ended with a single swing of an axe. She remembered the wallowing of those yet to die, left to suffer more at their hands than be put out of their misery, she could feel the loneliness and grief that weld in her heart at their loss and the constant fear of death that continually chased her during those days. She was useless, she couldn't save them, just like she couldn't save anyone else, as she wallowed silently in self-pity, losing her composure to not her imminent death but the horrid memories of her past that should have been where her life ended, she felt something ignite in her.

"_Do not let them suffer_" she heard the whisper, faint words were spoken in her ear and she heard them, she wanted to look for the source of the voice but knew it did not belong to those who dwelled around her, it came from another source. "_Don't let more of them suffer_"

Sefri's eyes widened at the words, 'don't let more suffer', she looked over to the skulls that adorned the orc belt, she could imagine the happy faces that would have once belong to those children when they were alive, their laughing and playing. She could almost hear and see it with her own eyes and ears, she could not just hear them but many more, dozens, hundreds of children playing and laughing, she could see so many innocent faces that were happy and without worry, so many.

"_Not one more_" the feminine voice spoke to her, she knew what would happen to those faces, they would be ended with a single swing of an axe or sword, their laughter would become screams, their happiness would become fear, and their peaceful existence would end in violence and death.

The axe finally fell, she could hear it whistling through the air as it descended towards her neck, is heaviness and sharpness could be determined based on the shrill of the wind being cut, to all who watched there was nothing that would stop it from claiming the dwarfs life. But something shot up and halted it, shocked gasps went up around the crowd of creatures as they watched was could only be trickery, Sefri had stopped the axe with a single gloved hand, the blade halted by her palm. A faint glow around her hand showed that it was not brute strength or skin of iron that halted the blade, but something much more dangerous, she held it there for a few moments before her lips parted to speak her mind.

"How dare you" she whispered, her voice was of cold steel, the orcs did not hear her, save for her would-be executioner, who watched in muted horror as she looked up at him. Hey eyes locking onto the skulls that dangled from his belt; that thumped against one another with every subtle amount of movement, before long her eyes were boring into his cold black one; he could feel her eyes piercing his own like hot fire pokers. She clenched her fist, the temperature around her began to rise steadily, some took a step back but the executioner was unable to, too shocked to let go of his weapon he was trapped within her iron grip, she drew it back and she stared into the orcs eyes and he saw only fire. "How dare you!"

With that roar she slammed her fist into his stomach, her hand piercing his body and striking his spine, the orc spat up a wad of blood, but her vengeance was not yet sated, her form was engulfed in a tornado of golden light, she looked to the orcs before her and with nothing but a whisper chanted "**Holy Nova!**". A massive explosion of light and fire engulfed the street, either turning all those close to ash or throwing other away, but many more were knocked off their feet and blinded by the golden luminescence, but for those who recovered from the attack they saw something that would only illuminate their impending doom. Standing before them was the dwarf, her body no longer was smeared with blood and mud; her robes were burnt clean, revealing the torn blue and azure robes, her wounds were no longer existent, all had healed leaving no scars. Around her feet was a small whirlwind of fire, which only added to the sceptical that lay before their eyes, on her back sprouting from her shoulders were two large rays of light that took on the form of wings of red and gold, they could feel the power was off of her light the heat of the sun itself. She looked up and all they could see were orbs of gold flame, ready to consume their souls as soon as they look into your eyes, she raised her hand and from the ground rose up her staff, the energy within the rings ignited in a bonfire of golden flame.

"All of you" her voice was tempered and rung like steel, her anger was as potent as the flames that surrounded her, all those that could hear her watched in horror as she raised her staff and the flames began to rise and expand upwards and onwards. "I will turn all of you to ash!"

* * *

_Ten Minutes Later_

Faramir and his small army of soldiers and rangers arrived at the Forum of Falastur, ready to meet the orc army that was marching towards the Golden gate, it had taken them some time to reach here after the spectacle in the Common Hollow, but they were here. Faramir saw dozens of soldiers waiting in the square for what purpose he had no known, he looked at them and saw no wounds to stop them from fighting the enemy, only fear to move forward to meet them, he would have expected better than this from his men.

"Where is the Dwarf?" he called to them, they remained silent, they knew where she was and were not to inclined to answer his question, they knew she was fighting the orcs alone and likely died a while ago. "Answer me!"

"She went to fight the orcs more lord" said one soldier, he didn't look up, not wanting to look the lord in the eye after telling him that she had more courage to face the enemy alone then these paltry few did together.

"And yet, here you are, cowering in the mud like rats" he rebuked, he didn't have time for them he needed to get to the battle and save her, she was the only one who could save this city and his men, he couldn't let her die after all she had done and all she could do. Leading the two hundred strong army forward he came across a shocking sight, a field of corpses, well over a hundred, burnt to cinder, some were even crumbling to ash, he could see pools of steaming metal that was freshly melted; the smell of burning flesh was thick in the air. Some men couldn't help themselves and empties their contents on the ground, he would have as well if he were a few years younger, this was something he had never seen before, all these corpses were burnt alive yet the ground shows only a few signs of scorching, what had happened here?

His question was answered when through the smoke a light was seen, it illuminated a stout form that slowly moved towards them, they could tell who it was even before she stepped out to be seen, but when she did they couldn't help but gasp as the sight before them. Walking towards them was the dwarven priestess, her robes were in tatters and her skin was quite pale, but her physical condition was completely missed by those who looked at her, her back had two large rays of light flowing out her back, like a golden ribbon caught in the wind they billowed behind her, and with every step they could see her foot prints left charred indentations in the ground. But it was what she carried in her hand that caught some attention, it was not her staff, but the corpse of a still burning orc, its body alight with golden flames as she dragged it with her towards the Captain, her eyes were glazed over as if struggling to remain in the world of the living. With every step she took the golden tassels on her back slowly faded away and the flames around the orc subsided, eventually she stood before Faramir, she did not move or speak she stood there as if all her strength was being used to keep herself from collapsing.

When the flames left the corpse of the orc that she had form grasp of, they saw the charcoaled body of a screaming orc, an almost cruel fate for the creature, almost was the right word, then many cracks formed over its body and it crumpled in her hands, its remains fell to the ground and turned into a pile of ash. Those who looked on could see the priestess sway as she tried to remain standing, eventually she lost her staff and the her foot shortly after, Faramir moved forward and caught her as she fell, he could hear her mumbling out random words as he looked her over to see if she was alright.

"Get the doctors!" he roared to the men, some went off to find them while the rest watched as their captain cradled the young dwarven woman in his arms as she continued to mumble in her delirious state.

"No more… No… more suffering…"


	16. Chapter 14: The Five Meetings Part 03

**Hello all and to all a good day (Please Read Author Notes, they are important)  
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**So I hope your enjoying my work and I know I am, and that is why I have this up nice and early for you  
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**Now on to some important matters, as many of you know I have another story in the works and therefor will be moving between this story and that one on an irregular basis, based upon which story I want to focus on and how much i need to plan out the storyline. United Against the Legion of Flames is a massive crossover and one that will likely be the death of me. But I haven't decided where i will be starting the story so I have time to plan it out, some of you have voted on which Bleach arc it should take place in (Fake Kararura town, Hunco Mundo, Fullbringer, Thousand Year Blood War) so i'm waiting to see where they should go.  
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**Also i will be making a little development facts about how my story came to life and how i was originally planning it out, so if you want to know what i was planning with some characters take a look down the bottom to see.  
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**And later on I will be editing United Against the Legion of Flames, i fell there are some things that weren't done right when i first did it and intend to fix them up when i have the time.  
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**Now on with the reviews  
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**Kiue Jin: True there is a possibility of the light becoming a religious group within Middle Earth, but remember just because the gods don't come down and smite everyone doesn't mean they don't care about the well-being of their followers, after all Elune doesn't send heavenly creatures down to stop the orcs from cutting down Ashenvale, usually being a divine being also means being Omnipotent.**

**FractiousDay: Yeah, sorry about that, tried to think of different spells she could use, but I'm trying not to breach to much of a gap between Shadow and Holy Magic, after all Sefri is a healer and not a fighter, and as for Gandalf not sensing Joana, that's not completely true, he was able to gauge her when she look him in the eye, they were both able to sense each others powers.  
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**LeapingLemur: Yeah woman are scary when their angry, and Sefri can be a total bad ass, and thanks for the vote on which arc for United Against the Legion of Flames, for all who wish to see which arc my story takes place in please go to my profile and vote on the polls.  
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**knolden: Thank you, i was really happy with how that chapter turned out, in fact i was never planning on making it into just a single thing, man that would have been huge, but seeing how Part one turned out i decided to split it up into nicely diced pieces for you all to enjoy. as for Adria, well when you said that, i didn't want to leave you guys hanging so i decided to add this chapter and change the four meetings to five. Enjoy!  
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**ultima-owner: That she does bro, that she does  
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**syed: Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa... this is not my batman glass.  
**

**Anyway onto your questions  
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**1. New Magics, yeah, that is something i will be planning on, in fact keep an eye of Rosaria and Mairne, they could be doing something later on.  
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**2. Hmmmm, possibly, they were meant for communication purposes, and the light isn't the only thing that can cleanse it of its evil  
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**3. You don't need magic to find stuff, you need only a Dumpy Level, a Shovel and a light telling you if its within fifty feet or not, yeah (That was a crack on the Archeology Profession). but maybe, also just because the dark lord has been owned doesn't mean there is peace, there are many other things that need to be cleansed from the world.  
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**4. Yes, but i don't want to reveal to much, i will be getting to it very soon and then you will all know about it, as for helping the dwarves, maybe later on, remember you have to build a reputation with these guys, remember the Stonemother, you don't get things without working for them, so the shaman is going to have his work cut out for him.  
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**5. Yes that is possible, because light comes in many different forms, for the Followers of the light would worship and pray, while the Blood elves used the sun well as a power source for their magic and by extension the holy light, and the Tauren harness the power of the sun as the druid harness the power of the moon, it fits in a sense, light is just not one thing it can be used in many different ways and contexts.  
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**Wow that a lot of questions, any who on with it**

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Five Meetings (Part 03: The Fallen Wizard)**

* * *

**Rohan, Edoras**

Gandalf watched as Joana rode off from the city, her anger washing off of her like the great heat of a roaring fire, he knew that speaking to her would be a pointless endeavour; she was too engrossed in her anger that his words would be met upon deaf ears. She was a strange individual that one, so full of passion and pride that would make other warriors seem dull in comparison, but honourable all the same, she would willingly start a fight with city guard just to allow him into the city because he was an old man and give him a good sum of money to see him on his way, past her aggressive demeanour was a truly kind soul. A soul that was likely one of a kind in this world, and it was even more unique due to her conflicting gender and occupation, even he was a bit sceptical that she was who she claimed to be, a knight from a far off land. But when he first looked into her eyes he knew that she was just some woman, he felt great power within her, power he had never felt before, when he looked in her eyes he saw it burning beneath the surface ready to be released and consume anything in its path. She was truly a fascinating individual; to be able to hold onto such power and use it for good no matter the insults and jeers she likely suffered because of it, and when she restored him to perfect health, that was what truly surprised him, he had never expected that such a thing could heal his wounds to this degree.

He had walked this world for many ages past and has never once seen or felt anything such as that before, he knew that it was holy and divine, but it wasn't from a divine he was aware of, who was this woman that had garnered his attention so. But that power was not only meant to heal, she could see that it gave her strength to overpower any man with ease, the way she drove her sword through the stone and left many Rohirran trying in futility to remove it from the stones grasp, an amusing sight. She was a warrior of some calibre, that he was for sure, but how great it was he did not know, but he was willing to guess that the way she held herself she was a very deadly opponent one who could match any sword in this land with ease, so many strange things have been happening over these last few days.

He watched as her horse rode out of the stables and towards the main gate, he didn't know where she was going but he knew it was likely to somewhere where she could relieve some stress that seemed to have appeared from her business with the king. He knew that the king was being bewitched, he had seen similar things before, and he knew exactly the source of such sorcery, Saruman, he knew that the fallen wizard was using the Palantir to control Théoden; he knew exactly why he was doing this. He is planning something for Rohan, and from the creatures he is breeding from beneath the surface of Isengard, it can only mean war, he spent many months on the pinnacle of the Orthonc and watched as Saruman planned out his schemes from within. He sighed when those thoughts came to mind, two days prior he escaped from the confines of the Orthonc's pinnacle, all thanks to the aid of that frightfully clad yet carefree woman, Adria Darkweaver, a woman who wielded dark and destructive power with but a wave of her hand. Yet she smiled and spoke with such kind words, one would think she was playing at being a dark wizard rather than actually being one, but her show of abilities quickly removed any doubt of what she was, as she was light-hearted in conversation, so was she in fighting.

He was pulled from his musing when the stable hand brought him the horse he had requested, Shadowfax, The lord of all horses, a stallion as white as pure snow, a fine steed and one he would need for the journey ahead of him for he had to leave now to reach Bree, Frodo was waiting for him and he could not wait any longer. He lifted himself into the saddle and took the reins and with a small motion of his hands the horse moved forward, going as fast as the wind as it went into full gallop, he moved through the gate and past the two guards who saw not but a blur of white.

He went with all speed to the gap of Rohan, he needed to cross the borders before nightfall, he had little time, how funny it was, he was immortal and yet he had so little time to do what he needed to, he watched as the land around him become a quick blur and his steed moved faster, almost sensing his masters need. With Saruman now the enemy he could not be lax in his movement, they needed to be quick and without delay if he wished to remain undetected by his eyes and ears, for if he was captured again, all would fall apart, he needed to warn Elrond, he needed to find Frodo and the ring. All the while he couldn't help but be drawn back to that night where he was saved from the clutches of his fallen Istari brother, how she had carried him through the forests of Fangorn trying to get them both to safety, and he couldn't forget that reassuring smile she gave him before they both departed from another.

* * *

_Two Nights Ago_

_**Fangorn Forest**_

_Gandalf nearly collapsed as his foot was caught on a exposed root, only stopped because his arms was draped over another's narrow shoulders, he looked to the woman who was having some difficulty carrying him, he could see the strain on her features as well as her quivering body. The power she had used in her fight against Saruman had drained her, and that transformation had done nothing but hastened it, he could see her body was on the verge of collapse and there was nothing that could be done to stem it, save for her own will to keep moving. _

_Adria had two cuts on her once flawless face, one running along her forehead just over her right eye and the other down her left cheek, blood smeared and covered half her face, but even past that he could see into her dimly glowing green eyes that she was barely able to support him along with herself. She lifted him back up and continued on, she was very strong willed to be able to fight through the fatigue, all around them they could hear the shouts and growls of orcs and they searched for them, but through it all she kept going without any show of concern for their safety._

"_Your heavy for an older fella" she breath out, he looked at her and saw her forced grin, she was likely trying to keep the mood light due to their current situation, truthfully he felt his mood improve slightly. Had this not been a life and death situation and not be surrounded by those hunting him and her, he would have let out a hearty laugh, but seeing as that was out of the question he just replied in a light tone._

"_Sorry for the burden, usually I have a walking stick" he replied flatly, thought she chuckled to his response._

"_I would think a wizard such as you would be able to at least heal or maybe be able to levitate yourself out of there." She replied with a mocking tone and grin to match. Gandalf looked at her and was not to surprise that she had found out he was what he was, after all magical beings could sense other magical beings in a sense, he was able to sense her and she could likely do the same to him._

"_Without my staff, I am powerless" she looked at him in understanding, all magi required a form of focus in order to use some spells, some didn't necessarily have to use a staff or wand, they could use magically enchanted gloves or even their bare hands if they were skilled enough but would still require a focus on the body to direct the spell to the wielders hands._

"_Sorry to hear that, I would say you can my staff, but I don't think you would like it too much" she replied, sincere in her words at first but as it continued it lost its gentleness with a more solemn one._

_He remembered those screams when he picked up that staff and the visions of that horrid place, how she was able to wield that weapon and not be driven mad was a wonder to him, maybe she didn't see it, but something told him that wasn't the case. He could see in her eyes that she had seen horrid thing, things that were possibly worse than what he saw from that cursed staff, he could only wonder what it was that was so horrible that seeing hundreds of innocent woman and children killed had little effect on her mental wellbeing. A howl drew both their attentions to rocks to their right, an orc was on the top of the small mountain of stone howling out, likely calling for the others to tell them that their pray had been found, he leapt off and charged them its sword held high. Adria kneeled down and took her hands off Gandalf, she put her staff into her left hand and reached into her robes and grasps something, and she took off towards the orc, not to engage with one of her spells but going to engage it in close combat. When she reached the beast she raised her staff to block the coming attack, the two weapons struck with light ringing noise resonated through the forest, as she held the weapon at bay she quickly pulled her hand from her robes and with it came along a blade. _

_A long curved black blade with a great deal of intricate lining and glyphs along the flat revealed itself, there was no visible cross guard that separated the blade from the hilt, and the handle and blade seemed to merge as one, the hilt was a simple piece of misshapen metal that seemed to be an contrast the flawlessly made blade. The hilt formed at the back end of the blade and ran along the blunt edge of the sword up to the tip of the blade, with a small slither of the dark metal moved off the back and along the blades flat to keep the two contrasting metals together, which was likely the only thing doing so._

_She quickly slashed the blade as she drew it, cutting through the orcs exposed side, the beast didn't scream as she cut through its waist, tearing through flesh and organs, it merely groaned before falling to the ground dead, she rested her blade by her side and used her staff to keep herself upright, that was not as easy as she had made it appear. She didn't have much mana left and with little Mana present she couldn't sustain herself for long, Mana dehydration was setting in, to bad Mairne wasn't here, he could set up a water totem just for her, then she would be back in business in no time, she frowned a little, she didn't know if he was alright or not. She had always liked Mairne, he was someone she could relate to in some ways, she couldn't say that they shared many similarities but there were a few things that they shared that made them who they were today, she would not admit it out loud though, not because she thought he would think her silly, because she knew if she did she would just bring up the bad memories, memories they both shared. She shook off those thoughts for now, there were more important things to worry about now, she could hear more orcs coming their way and they were coming fast, she turned on her heels and rushed back to Gandalf, she sheathed her sword and threw her staff back into her right hand, kneeling next to the old man she lifted him back up and continued onward._

_For the next few minutes they kept moving, they had to pick up their pace as the sound of the orcs drawing near, either deal with the pain of moving too quickly or be caught and killed, they could not see an end to the forest before them or the darkness that was the night. They could make out shadows and figures moving off in the distance, likely the orcs that were searching for them, or if not then their eyes playing tricks on then due to the exhaustion, they both knew they would not make it far with so many after them, outnumbered and defenceless, without his staff Gandalf couldn't use magic and without any mana Adria could use magic regardless if she had a staff or not. Eventually she was forced to stop when three orc leapt out from behind a nearby tree, she was forced to discard her staff and reach for her sword, she pulled it free quickly enough to knock one sword away and deflect another as it moved to stab her, but the third struck home and dug a gash in her right leg. She let out a pained cry before falling to the ground, losing her hold of Gandalf and both her and he dropped to the ground, the three orcs hovering over them like carrion birds, she got to her hands and knees to try and fight back but was swiftly kicked in the ribs by an armoured boot, she cried out in agony as her side flared with pain, she looked up through squinted eyes to see them hovering over her with grins on their despicable faces._

_She snarled as she picked up her sword and swung it at the foul beasts in a wide arc, with a shriek she yelled "__**Incinerate**__" a wave of fire enveloped the three orcs before her, they screams as their bodies were shrouded in unholy flames, they tried to run, but the fire followed and further blanketed them in flames. She watched as their bodies quickly melted away, their skin and flesh turning to charcoal then to ash, leaving only incinerated bones left, but her work could not be viewed completely, she felt her head spin and then her vision blur before she lost consciousness, she awoke a moment later her head was in the dirt and another orc was coming at her from her right. She saw it bring down its sword, she rolled as the blade descended towards her neck; it struck the ground that was once beneath her as she rolled twice before stopping, now laying on her back and her blade in her left hand. She looked up to see the orc rushing over to her with its weapon raised, she did the same with her own in an attempt to stop the fatal blow, she succeeded in blocking the strike but afterwards the orc kicked it out of her grasp, the orc snarled down at her before its hand constricted around her throat, lifting her up and into the air, she gasped for oxygen and received none. She felt her vision begin to cloud itself and her mind go blank, she was losing consciousness again, she didn't have the strength to set herself free, or the power to do anything to hurt or kill the beast in front of her, she was completely at its mercy. She slowly felt her body go numb as darkness invaded her vision, her eyes fluttered as lack of air finally caught up to her, the last thing she saw before everything went blank was the orc snarling at her. Just as her vision went dark she felt air finally enter her lungs and her body hit the ground, slowly as it went her vision returned and she saw herself looking up to the orc flailing about trying to reach something over his shoulder, as it turned she saw her sword lodged into the beast shoulder, just far enough away that it couldn't reach for it._

_Behind the orc was Gandalf, backing up as quickly as his leg could take him without falling over, the orc turned on the aged wizard and with its only good arm tried to attack, but Adria seized the moment and leapt onto the beast back and grasped the hilt of her sword and twisted the blade. The orc fell to the ground with a roar of pain before she began channelling a spell through her blade; she watched as the orc beneath her began to have its life force striped from it, its body slowly paled and shrivelled up as its life force was drained through the blade and into her. She felt her wound close up and her pain and bruising subside, she didn't need all of his life force but if she took enough she could possibly use its life energy as a substitute for Mana, giving her some breathing room when she was attacked again. Once she was finished all that remained was a dried up husk of the orc, his skin was like grey sand paper and his eye had withered away into dust, leaving only empty sockets, she pulled the blade free causing crack to form over the orcs left shoulder and torso as if pulled from frail stone rather than flesh._

_She rose to her feet and took in a deep breath before sighing contently, she felt completely rejuvenated, the life force she stole from the orc may have be flimsy compared to other creatures she had taken life from, but it was enough to bring her back to peak condition, she looked over to the old man and saw him standing on two shaky legs. She wished she had something that could help him, but she didn't have any Potions or spells that could really heal him, she could create a Soul Well, she need actual souls to create a health stone, but she didn't have that or wanted to wait for some orc to show up to perform it on. She quickly sheathed her sword and retrieved her staff and moved to Gandalf to continue on their merry way, she kneel beside him and lifted him up, much easier now that she doesn't have any more wounds and is not at the point of blacking out, with Mana exhaustion there were dangers that made regular exhaustion seem like nothing. _

_With normal exhaustion your body has basically run itself to its limit and you no longer function properly, this means that you are tired and in need of rest, sleep or just relaxing for some time can cure this quite easily or possibly some refreshments can aid in your recovery. But Mana fatigue is slightly different, instead of feeling drained your body losses all is energy or fuel, leaving your body with nothing for it to run on, that is the main difference between the two. Where you to compare it to an engine, exhaustion is simply the engine overheats and needs to rest in order to cool down, whereas Mana fatigue is the fuel that the engine runs on, if that is all used up the engine dies, and unlike an engine you can just refill your mana after your exhausted it. This can lead to many medical injuries and physical trauma that can cause serious harm to the sorcerer, Atrophy is one such cause, loss of muscle mass and degeneration of body tissue due to your body using up all its energy, but there are far worse things that can happen. Strokes, Heart Attacks, Comatose, even outright death, which is why most Magi and Spell-Caster use magically imbued silk to absorb rampant Mana in the atmosphere to prevent the body from completely draining their Mana supply. But now that she had a small amount of Mana, courtesy of that orc she could now fight with more than her sword, but it would only last a few spells before she was back on the brink again, to bad she didn't have another Eye of Kilrogg on her she could use it to create another summoning circle far off and then be safe._

_Just as they made it past a large clearing something caught their attention, a large shadow passed over them and then disappeared without knowing what caused it, they looked up to see nothing but the night sky and there was no indication that whatever it was had seen them, Adria looked on trying to see if there were more than orcs following them. This was not what she needed, if the orcs had anything that could fly then they would be run down in no time, she didn't like this, if she knew what it was then she could probably try and kill it if it is one of the fallen wizard's thralls, or its just some wild animal. All the while Gandalf looked up searching for the elusive creature, trying to see where it went, as he did something fluttered past his eyes, a small moth flew in front of his face before landing on his shoulder, staying a moment before it flew off and towards a small clearing not too far from them, he knew the message, the same he had sent to Radagast asking for aid. He nudged Adria to get her attention, when she looked at him she saw him motioning his head towards the clearing a few metres away, she looked towards it and furrowed her brows as to why he wanted to go there._

"_Why?" she asked, having no idea why he wanted to enter the clearing, all he did was stair at her with his big blue eyes, while she tried to stare him down with her own, she furrowed and then grimaced before relenting to his demand._

_She carried him forward to the clearing, all the while keeping a look out for more orcs and for that things that seemed to have passed overhead a few moments before, the last thing the needed was to be seen by whatever it was and then either carried away or eaten, it was then that she crossed the threshold of the open area and then halted. Wait if they go out into the clearing then whatever is chasing them will see them, just as this thought passed through her minds something moved overhead, looking up quickly she gawked at the large eagle that was looking at them as it descended from the skies. It was a large brown feathered beast that could possibly put a gryphon to shame in size alone, and based on that it would possibly hold three or four passengers on its back alone and then two more with its talons, it landed on the ground in front of them and examined the two being before it. It looked at Gandalf and treated him like a pet would its master, obviously the bird was smarter then it looked and appeared to know one another, and as soon as its eyes moved onto they narrowed, based on what she could tell the creature thought her some sort of foul creature, scum of the earth is a sense. She looked at it and she could fell its eyes boring into her glowing orbs, with antagonism and suspicion, she was starting to get a little annoyed with its very evident opinion of her, when it finally snapped at her with its beak, so did she._

"_What the fuck are you look at?" she gritted out with a forced smile and a mad glean in her glowing fel eyes, as if trying to provoke the creature before her into a fight, she had done it many times before, with many other creatures that were sentient in nature, usually they were killed or severely burnt. _

"_Calm yourself, he is here to help" said Gandalf, he removed himself from Adria and stumbled towards the eagle, which lowered itself to allow the injured man to climb onto its back, she watched as he laid flat against the creature broad back and grabbed hold of the birds feathers to keep a hold when it takes off. He looked at the Warlock and motioned for her to join him, she made to move forward but before she could, her ears heard a sharp whistling sound, turning she saw a shadow in the moonlit sky falling towards her, instinctively she leaned to the side, it passed just where her head occupied a few moments ago. She felt the arrow whiz past and felt the air pressure generated as it spun, she looked to the forest and searched for the perpetrator, several shadows came into view and then she knew what she was dealing with, the orcs had found them. Leaping out from the trees she saw them, illuminated by the moons light she could see them in all their feral glory, to many to fight up close she needed to use a spell and she had one just in mind._

_Slamming her staff into the ground she chanted the next spell, her words were Eredun, the language of demons of the nether, dark and savage words escape her lips, words not meant to be heard or said by any living being not of demonic origin. The Eagle back pedals as the words rolled from her tongue, she could feel the dark energy form around her and travel to the headpiece of her staff, the dragon like headpiece began to swell with dark energy and soon its form was shrouded in darkness. With a final call the spell was completed "__**Shadowflame**__", from her staff the shadows shot out and formed an object in front of the caster, the images of a screaming demon appeared and with a roar a vast wave of purple flame erupted from its mouth and flew towards the orcs like a great wave. She watched in savage glee as the orcs were burnt alive, but they were only a small few compared to those who weren't affected, she was forced to leap away as a hail of arrows descended upon her from above, she looked to her right to see a dozen or so orcs approaching, then she glanced at the eagle and wanted to run to it and escape but when more arrows forced her further away she knew it was futile. _

_The orcs were coming in to quickly, she couldn't reach then and escape, she had only one things left to do, she drew her sword and held it in her free hand, then pointed her staff towards an approaching orc, with a quiet chant a bolt of shadow shot from the mouth of the headpiece and struck the orc in the chest. Before turning quickly to cut down and orc, she twirled on her feet and crouched low to avoid the blade, her sword cutting through its stomach like it was nothing, before straightening to dispatched another, blocking with her staff and then stabbing it with her sword. She looked over to the aged wizard and flashed him a smile before she turned on her heels and rushed out of the clearing, sending a shadow bolt to a nearby orc and cutting a deep gash along another orcs chest as she ducked under its blade before disappearing into the shadows of the forest, that was the last time Gandalf saw her, fleeing into the forest with the orcs following closely behind her._

* * *

Present

When she fled he was flown to safety, the eagle took him only a few miles from Edoras and it was there that he continued his journey for the rest of the night and morning, trying to reach the city and then meet with the king, but he was denied entrance. But thanks to Joana he was able to enter and speak with the king and likely is ahead of schedule now that he has departed, he wondered though who that woman was, he had never seen such power before, it was a complete enigma to him as was Adria's. Then a thought came to him, could those two know one another? Could they be from the same place, he could tell that both their powers were almost complete opposites from one another but the design of their armour and weapons were something that caught his attention, they were unique and fit accordingly to their intended profession. He began to wonder if he would meet other such as those two on his journey, and maybe if they could aid him in it, after all, this world is in danger and in retrospect so are they, but he doubted he would meet others, what are the odds of running into more people such as them?

* * *

**Isengard**

Saruman looked down at the staff before him, it was an incredible object to behold, it resonated with dark power, when he touched it he saw things that would drive men mad, but he also saw the power of it, the power that could be his. He looked at the dark metal it was constructed from, he could feel the power pulse from its by just being near it, the dragon-like headpiece had two ruby eyes and jagged spikes along its spine, which sat on a stand with four sharp points jutting up from the sides. With it he could raise entire armies to his command, armies of the dead and creatures from a demonic plane, with it he could bring forth a force that would make him the sole ruler of this middle earth, not even Sauron could stand against him, not even his Nazgul.

He had been looking for the ring for some time now, he knew that with it he could master its power and rule over this realm, but it had eluded him for centuries and now that it has been found he would do what he must to claim it, he would find this Hobbit, this Frodo Baggins. But he needed to make sure that there was no opposition that could face him, and with this staff at his side, he could hold his own until he claimed it for himself, he would continue to serve the dark lord and then he would strike when the time was right, for even the dark lord could not wield power such as this. He remembered the vision he received, the staff was forged by a being as mighty and as powerful as the Dark Lord himself, maybe even mightier, a being who wielded powers that could summon long dead being and bind them to his service, who mind could dominate entire armies whose power reverberated with every work he spoke.

* * *

Icecrown Citadel, Halls of Reflection

_He stood in a massive circular room, its walls were dark and rose high into the darkness above, many alcoves were present along with walls, and only darkness could be seen beyond them, as if this room was the only one that existed in some plane of shadow. He was kneeling on a slightly risen platform in the centre of the room; on it was an intricate diagram of unknown purpose, a triangle within a two circle that sat in another, and had archaic runes of dark gold emblazed in-between them. And at one end of the great hall was a throne of deep blue steel, great thorns and skulls adorned it and sapphires that were just a shade lighter than the metal they were place in, and the being that was meant to take up such a grand throne was one even grander. He could feel the unholy power that washed off the being before him, he felt the biting sting of the cold as his power poured from the being and smothered him, he had felt only one being compare to that power and that was the Dark Lord himself, but where the great lord Sauron was a being of fiery passion and relentless destruction, this being before him was one of cold malice and inescapable death. _

_He saw this Lich King upon his throne covered in armour of fine silver, many skulls and thorns adorned him armour, he was fear given form, and even though he knew that he was not truly present, Saruman knew fear when he looked upon his glowing eyes. Even though the elves eyes glowed, these were not any way the same, he could see the eyes of a being that rivalled that of a god and held nothing in regards to mercy, compassion or fear. In his hand was a sword, which glowed with dark runes of power and the blade was shrouded in a mist of cold blue, he could see from the mist faces crying out and screaming, he could feel the blade calling to him, its endless hunter calling to his soul to feed it._

"_**You have done well to serve me, your power alone has brought the frozen waists of Dragon Blight under my control, not even the Dragons of the Wyrmrest Accord had been able to hold back against my Legions**__" he said, his words echoing and resonating with untapped power, Saruman felt almost overwhelmed with how great the being before him was, apathetic and held an air of superiority that felt as if he was the only one who held right to._

"_**But I require more, your work has only begun in the Frozen Wastes**__" he said, rising from his throne and hold his sword deafly in one hand, but ready still to use it to strike down the one before him with little hesitation or reason, holding his free hand forward he watched as something slowly fell from the dark ceiling towards him. Before them both, held in the air just a few inches above the Lich Kings hand, was the staff that was showing him this vision, it was surrounded by a strange glow and radiated with as much power as it did when he first laid eyes upon it. "__**This staff; this weapon, is my gift to you, with it you will raise me an army like the which this world has never before witnessed, from Naxxramas your work shall begin, build me an force that will bring this world to its knees.**__"_

_He extends the staff forward, and two bony hands reach out to claim it and hold it within his grasp, the power coursed through the wielder hands and body, it was an incredible sensation, where one would think they could do almost anything. This staff head great power and in the hands of a great wizard, he would be unstoppable, that is what Saruman wanted he wanted power, as his thought dwelled on this he was brought back by the Lich King's words._

"_W__**ith this staff the souls of the innocent will be bound to my will and will languish in torment as they slaughter in my name. Succeed in your task and you shall be rewarded … but if you fail**__" Arthas said, his voice carry an deathly edge as he commanded his follower to his new task "__**You will suffer along with then, this staff will bring Damnation onto all, including you. Now go, continue my work, and do not fail me, Gothik**__"_

* * *

**Isengard**

When he saw the vision from the staff he knew that this weapon could bring forth a force that would make his Urak-Hai nothing more than a horde of rapid dogs, useful for nothing more than a mean to an end, but these Undead, they could make him the ruler of this middle earth, entire legions at his command. He cruel smile adorned his face at the thought, he would rule all the land and with every enemy that fell he would grow stronger, and for every champion that was slain he would be made to serve him, it was perfect; he would have an endless tide at his command. He looked away from the staff and moved from his study to his throne room, he took his seat and gazed towards the one who would show him the power of the staff and the mean to control it, the Elf that had nearly killed him two nights ago. She hung from the walls, her arms wrapped in chain and extended outwards, like some twisted decoration she hung from the dark stone as nothing more than something to look upon. Adria's entire form was limp and motionless and a small dribble of blood dropped from her robes as she hung there, which was because of the many cuts and scrapes that marred her limbs and torso, and ruined her once seamless robes. Saruman had to admit this woman was powerful and skilled, to be able to fight off so many orcs and evade them for several days was nothing short of miraculous, he feared his orcs would never catch her, but in the end they had, after sustaining heavy casualties might he add, and from what they said more were killed by her blade than her magic.

He looked up at the dauntingly robed elf before him, he could tell that her power was greatly diminished because of their little duel and because of that she was in no position to fight back or escape, she was at his mercy and he would offer none to retrieve the information he needed. She had been unconscious for several hours now, a small trickle of blood from her head showed that it was likely from the wound that had done her in, but he could see that she was starting to come around, her body gave the occasional twitch and groan escaped her lips from time to time. She wouldn't be able to stay conscious for long, she would need medical treatment in order to recover fully, but he could easily keep her alive without needing to resort to healing her, he was already going through several scenarios on what types of torture he could use to get her to talk.

Adria slowly opened her eyes, her vision was blurry and bright, she narrowed her eyes and tried to stem the glare she was getting from the dim room she was in, when she finally was able to focus her eyes she immediately closed them and shook her head, she remembered what happened and knew exactly where she was. She was trapped and was being looked at by the old white haired bastard that had been hunting her for the last two nights, she tried so desperately to escape then, she was so close and when she thought she had lost them finally they ambushed her, a few spells later, and a massive explosion she was knocked out and if memory serves right dragged back to this damn tower. She groaned as she heard his words come to her ear, they were laced with magic and she could tell they were trying to entice her, but being a former Battle-Mage and a Warlock to boot she could get past the magic, but the talking was something she didn't want to hear. It reminded her so much of all those smug Paladins and Mages from the Kirin Tor, they either had a stick up their ass or had such big egos they couldn't looked down at you otherwise they would likely fall from the loss of balance.

"Good, your awake, there is much we have to discuss" he said in a pleased, yet arrogant tone that she knew she was going to love to hate him for, she narrowed her eyes without even bothering to reply, she wasn't here to have small talk with the white hair horses arse, she needed to save her energy to escape, she was glad he didn't know her robes were laced with Mana absorbing thread. "You have something that I need, something that I dearly wish to have, I want the power of the staff, I want the power that its previous used wielded, Necromancy"

Adria looked at him surprised; he knew who the previous wielder was? He must have touched the staff and saw the visions, likely from the bastard himself, after all the staff was made not only to enhance the Harvesters Power but also bind his soul to the Staff of Damnation. And anytime when she picks up the staff she is given a vision of the wielders previous works, mainly Thaddeus, and his words in the construct with of Naxxramus, but one would require a vast mental discipline to see into the staff and commune with it otherwise they would either be killed by the backlash of energies or corrupted and driven insane. She was able to wield it because of her training and dabbling in the demonic arts, see was able to use the staff with little ill effect, but for him to use it just outright and appear right as rain it spoke highly of his power, both mentally and magically, it was obvious now that their encounter earlier was only luck on her part.

"Hah! You want to have the power of Gothik the Harvester, you got another thing coming if you think I'm going to tell you how to use the staff, good luck old man" She crowed, before turning away from him with a smirk on her face, missing the frown on the wizards features as he gazed up at her.

"You would do well not to anger me, for I can make you suffer in ways you could not begin to imagine" he said, his words becoming deep and booming, but she had heard better threats from an ogre and brushed it off like it was nothing more than dirt.

"But I already am suffering, don't you know how much I want to rip off my ears right now to stop listen to you talk, a lot!" she shouted to him with mock anger, before she looked up at him with a haughty smirk on her face, but where her anger was pretend his was not, who lashed out with his staff, an invisible force striking her in the stomach. She gasped and she felt the wind knocked out of her, she swayed back and forth on the chains and felt her wound painfully disturbed by the attack, and she shallowed the bile that had risen in her throat and tried the same with her pain before looking back at the wizard with narrow eyes and a snarl. She knew where this was going, there was no denying it, but she didn't have any choice, this man was obviously going to be waging a war, and the last thing she wanted was to give him an army that would lay waste to anything it touched, she wouldn't allow it, she would not be the cause of another Silvermoon.

Looking up at the aged wizard she saw him rise from his throne and grasp his staff tightly, before looking up at her with a cruel smile. "Do not worry; your screams will be the only thing I wish to hear for the time being." When he said that he speared his staff forward and all she felt was pain was over her body, but she did not scream, she would not give him the satisfaction, she looked at him with a grimace and bided her time, she would escape and she would have her revenge.

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**Facts:**

**I originally got this concept from NightIncarnate story Eternal Undeath, which sadly is on Hiatus at the moment.**

**I intended to bring only four or five people into the story (they were meant to be a Male Orc Shaman, Female Human Mage, Male Forsaken Warlock, Female Blood Elf Paladin, Female Night Elf Druid)**

**They were never meant to be separated from the start, they were meant to all arrive in Rivendell before the fellowship arrived.**

**Well hope you enjoy**


	17. Chapter 15: The Five Meetings Part 04

**Alright everyone here is my latest chapter; this chap focuses on Rosaria, our favourite Druid trapped in middle earth.**

**Syed: God damn dude you speak so much, alright let's see how I go at answering all of that. **

**1. I see so there's one in the river, what skill level does Sefri have to be to fish it out and what are the chances she will get it?**

**2. Falling, definitely, but early, I don't know, might think about it.**

**3. If the elementals are cleansed they may or may not offer their aid, after all most elementals are neutral creatures that look after their own interests, but since the elementals of one world are different from one another I have to consider this. As for the location of the corruption, well I can't fit that in to several different possibilities.**

**4. Yes Rosaria is a definite, as for Mairne, he could probably teach some more open minded elves and humans if he wanted.**

**5. Varro, let's just say when there's blood flowing, he will be paddling up that river with a boat made of corpses. True he is powerful but not invincible, and I have done something that will directly affect him through the story that will bring him down a peg or two and also just because he is an orc and death knight doesn't mean he's all bad.**

**6. Dragons? No, he does not, he has those freaky worm bat thing-a-ma-jigs**

**7. Captured? Yeah let's just say it's like trying to tie up Houdini, that bastard gets out every time**

**8. No he is not going to steal all the wraithrings, he is not the Mandarin (If anyone knows what I'm talking about please review) as for the dwarves I have no idea what happened to their rings or their wielders.**

**9. Annie may be interested in looking into those devices but I still have a plan on where this story is going so any major changes need to be considered thoroughly before I implement them.**

**10. Cleric? Love Interest? Listen I am planning something with Annie and a hobbit, but (****-****3****-****) I'm gonna be a dick about it, you will know what I mean in a few chapters, it's when they arrive in Bree.**

**11. You ask a lot of questions, but you may speak**

**12. Well each world has its own unique energy source; in fact the wizards of the world wouldn't be able to use their power if there wasn't a source for their magical abilities. Now this world's source would be substantially weaker than that of Azeroths, because the Titans created the Well of Eternity as a main source of arcane energy. This also is like a grenade, so when the pin was pulled it exploded and the 'Shrapnel' of the explosion was the forcing of sapped layline current to surface and release arcane energy in many different places. And because the Well drew on these lay lines they were not as abundant as they were before it exploded, but after since the energy wasn't being seeped away they became much denser with energy**_**. It could explained similar to Sholazar basin, there are several rivers that run through the zone, and at the centre is the oasis where all are connected (This is the well of Eternity, and the rivers are lay lines) so if you were to say that the size of the river was based upon how much energy they had the smaller the river the less energy it has, so if the channels were blocked and had nowhere that was funnelling their energy then they would likely rise up and increase in size, there go more energy is available all around then when it was being funnelled to one central source**_**. So it is likely that there is somewhere on Arda where these energies are being drawn to and focused, if I had to do something similar with earth I would say it was the Bermuda Triangle.**

**13. She is a paladin, and what do Paladins do? I expect a one hundred word essay in the review section by my next posting and depending on how it sound I will grade you accordingly.**

**14. Are you kidding me, he's gonna be like: you can see me, *Puts ring on* now you can't, *pulls ring off* you can see me *Puts ring on* now you can't.**

**Leapinglemur: Scary yes, don't worry she's got some fight in her yet**

**FractiousDay: No he didn't leave her just on the fly, Adria ran off because she couldn't reach him and escape at the same time, she chose to flee so he could escape, as for trying to rescue her afterword's, it's hard to find someone in the forest and also collect them when you can't land. I did this on purpose; I want to try a different style of writing that doesn't focus solely on fighting and killing, but actual character development.**

**Knolden: I thank you for the support; it is why I keep writing.**

**Ultra-owner: Yes, the staff was made for Gothik himself to use, it hold all his memories and knowledge of his experiments, but knowing what he did is not enough you need to learn how to wield necromantic powers. And since these were developed by demons of the Burning Legion they will different from other necro magic these people may use, so Sarumon may have his work cut out for him as will Adria.**

**Sharnorasian Empire: I'm sorry to hear about that, I hope she gets better and back to writing, she is good, and I hope to read something from her again, give her my best wishes and regard.**

**Gavoon: Yeah Sorry, it was difficult to really put everything into it, but it was difficult to lengthen it out.**

**99 luffy: The fate of all the character are yet undecided, I may think about killing some off and leaving other but that won't happen immediately. The Horde Character have their own jobs in this story as do the Alliances, remember just because they aren't kicking ass now doesn't mean they aren't going to later on. Adria was imprisoned for plot development as was Zul'kal, and Varro isn't so much lost as busy learning his way around the landscape, and he isn't going to be staying there for very long. So don't feel despair the horde will shine through in this story just as the Alliance will, I am not Biased to either faction, I see the faults and flaw in both and the pro as well.**

**CynicalRabbit: Alright then, make a fanfiction profile and I'll make you my new editor and proof-reader for this and any other story that I produce, how do you feel about that? If you have such a keen eye I would welcome you as someone who can improve my work were it seems that even I cannot.**

**Well that's done, **

**Also to let some of you know, i have been playing Lord of the Rings: War of the North lately, and I was wondering, what do you guys think about me integrating it into the story, or possibly some elements of it. let me know what you think  
**

**Anyway, On With It!**

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**The Five Meetings (Part 04: The Elven Queen)**

**Lothlórien, Caras Galadhon**

The great forests of Lorien was a sight to behold, great trees of silver bark and a golden roof of leaves and the forest floor was covered with a grass of gold and emerald, for any who travel to this land would know that it was the most beautiful dwelling that a person could live within, for no other city or forest could compare to its majestic beauty. For these forests have existed for many millennia, protected and flourishing under the watchful gazes of its dwellers, the elves of Silven have protected these forests from any threat that assails it, be it man or orc or even nature itself, it has stood the tests of time as has its people. And many of those people now go about their business without worry, smiles could be seen on every face and laughter could be heard throughout the woodland city, it was truly a place that was unaffected by war and evil, it was the fairest dwelling in Middle Earth. But in truth there were whispers of the eastern forests growing darker, whispers of a great evil that now dwells beneath the darkened canopies of east Lorien, and in the lands of Mirkwood, which have led many to believe that war is coming to their beloved home.

But there have also been more rumors than just about war and darkness, ones about noble warriors venturing into the dark woods to fight the evil that resides there, who seek to stop the corruption spreading from one forest to another. Elven rangers and warriors venturing into the dark of the world and bringing light back to the darkness, it is also said that they fight against the evils of Dol Guldur, and these mighty few have gone by the name: Malledhrim, The Golden Host. They were the only force to have traveled from Lothlorien and fight against the corruption of their neighboring land, the former homeland of the woodland elves, for only those who wish to travel to the Undying Lands leave from this place; many would wonder what the outside world is like as they have never traveled beyond their own forests. Anytime there are travelers passing through their land or city it was a spectacle, for they rarely see strangers allowed passage through their home, and today was an even more grand spectacle, for before them were the Malledhrim and a woman clothed in green and blue robes.

It had been many seasons since they had seen the Golden Host return to their city, so embroiled were they in their battles against the forces of Dol Guldur that they were rarely given a chance to return to their homes and families. For some it was a strange sight to see them, especially with the unknown woman that seemed to be traveling between them, some tried to get a better look at the individual they were bringing into their home, trying to see who this mysterious guest or prisoner was. From what they could tell she wasn't an orc, for when has there ever been an orc woman before, that would be something to see, but from what they could see she wasn't an orc or anything but just a woman in strange clothing. Of the eight rangers there were four walking closely beside her, two on either side with one just ahead and the other behind her, while the Malledhrim Captain leading them had a strange staff in his hands, which metal headpiece an unusually blue, and some could feel the strange energy that permeated from the staff like a strong perfume. It was a strange item indeed; it was a large wooden crooked staff that curled forward before curling back giving the top of the staff an S-shape, along the lengths of the wood were red leather wrapping that held down sheets of metal. At its pommel was a piece of steel bent into a crescent, which was connected to the staff by two joints and in-between the joints and the crescent was a strange glow that seemed to materialize from nothing. Then there were the three talon-like blades that were present near the headpiece, two protruding side by side – with them widening themselves apart as they moved out – and one on the back of the staff that curved upward white the other two curved down. The head piece was a solid metal eagle head and neck, it appeared as pure silver with golden trimmings, and along the metal spine were three segmented pieces of metal with a triangular sapphire embedded in each, while its eyes were similar but gave of a dazzling glow.

As many eyes traveled and examined the staff and all its features, so did many others as they looked upon the woman who was likely its wielder, it was so strange a sight that many were drawn to her, some actively followed after The Malledhrim to see who or what their newest guest was, and allowed some to take in the finer details of the woman hidden between the black clad rangers. She wore a tight fitting blouse that showed off her very lithe figure, as well as the crevice between her bosoms, which was held together by a belt below her neck and twines below her assets, which ended at her belt, which was a deep bronze and depicted the face of an eagle with glowing purple eyes. Below her belt were well worn robes, which started with three individual covers over the main green gown, the ones at her sides, covered most of her waist and moved down to completely cover one entire side, were finely tailored blue fabric with gold trimmings which also created intricate patterns along the smooth surface, and peeking out from under the covers were three inch long blue feathers. While the third cover flowed down the front of her green robes, it was similar in design to the ones at her side but the main color was brown instead of blue and at the center was purple quartz embedded in the silk, below the gold trimmings were feathers of aged grey.

Sitting on her shoulder were two large pauldrons which covered her shoulders and protected the lengths of her upper arms, that were one of the only few places not covered in cloth, they were metal rather than leather or wood and were a deep blue shade with golden edgings with spikes running down the middle. Where the armour was anchored to the shoulder was a decoration of an eagle's head that jutted from the top of the pauldrons and face outwards, their eyes had a glowing quartz crystal embedded within, and strapped along the front of each was a small green bag. Her hands were covered in elbow length form fitting gloves; they could see her purple skin from her elbow and her forearm and also noted the well-formed muscles that were visible, well developed but still feminine. Only half her face could only be seen, the top was covered by a mask that resembled and eagles beak, and the rest of her head was covered by a green and gold hood, but strands of snow white hair flowed down from under the hood and neatly over her chest. Her lips were an even deeper shade of purple to her skin, and just below the edge her mast were blue markings, which if they could be seen fully resembled three prong claw marks over her eyes.

Rosaria took in the forest around her, it was beautiful to say the least, she could feel the tranquility and magic in the air that made this forest grow into extravagance, she would say it was a mirror image of the forests of Ashenvale, but still she would choose her home over this imitation every time. But she couldn't deny that this place was old, she could sense it in the trees and in the people who dwell within, she could see hundreds of elves of many ages roaming the streets, children running and pointing to her and the rangers that she followed, the older yet youthful appearing adults who watched the scene before them with interest. She was surprised to see as many children here, these elves were immortal were they not, that is what she was told, even her people would have few children, in fact she could probably count how many Keldorei children there were in the world with a single hand. Well it is possible that these people didn't have nearly all their male population sent into a hibernated sleep for ten thousand years, but even after that and before there were few children in Night Elf society, she couldn't help but feel envy that these people take something as natural as children for granted.

They were obviously interested in her appearance, both physically and the reason she is in their land, it would seem that they don't get many visitors, from all the people she could see there were no humans, dwarves, gnomes or any other humanoids of any kind; she began to wonder where she was, was this Azeroth or was it somewhere else. She was starting to get worried now, if she was no longer on Azeroth then that mean what happened back in Ulduar is still unresolved, the Observer could still be there, Tyresa and the rest of the warriors could be fighting for dear life or dead. She knew there were five others here, she saw Joana fall through the portal along with Varro, Zul'kal, Sefri and Adria, which in a sense could make for both the best and worst people to be here, Varro and Zul'kal by some extension could cause trouble and get themselves killed. But Sefri and Adria are smart enough, although the latter acts like a child more times than none, to know that in unknown lands they don't go about and cause problems for the locals, so all she had to do was find them and hope they haven't done anything to complicate matters or gotten themselves killed.

Lomdognir came to a stop a few feet ahead of her, looking ahead of him she saw a large cluster of silver trees, the closest had a large stairwell that spiraled up the silver bark and into the twilight canopy, the scene above her was an spectacle to the eyes, she could see many balconies and buildings within the trees and many bridges connected them to one another. An entire city was built within the foliage of the trees; dozens of buildings could be hidden within the thick brush above her as well as hundreds of inhabitants. She had to smile at the similarity these people shared with her own kind, even on different worlds they share a common affinity with the wild and live in the wild, in fact the methods they use is nearly as similar to her people, building homes on and within trees. She could see the stairs rise even higher into sea of silver leaves, past the many houses that could be seen and she had to wonder how far up into the heavens does this city of the forest rise, her eye could not tell her what lay beyond, but many light shone through the silver but it was not sun light but globes from even more of the city that remain hidden from sight. She was almost eager to move up the stairs and see the city within the trees for her own eyes, she had not seen sights such as these in her long life, her people may build homes and temples within trees, but even the night elves had not build a city in the canopies of a forest. She took a single step onto the wooden stair and as soon as her sole hit that stone, she froze, she felt something skim against her mind, a power that made her eagerness to move forward replaced with wariness, there was something here, she looked up and into the silver roof of leave searching with her sense what her eyes could not.

'Rosaria' a soft feminine voice whispered into her ear, her eyes widened slightly; she turned on her heels to face what had whispered into her ear, but there none other than the rangers, who stared at her apprehensively at her sudden action. She looked at them for a moment before taking another look around, nothing, she closed her eyes and took a quick breath before turning and following after the Malledhrim Captain. As she moved to the next step however she heard it once again.

'I feel your power, what are you?' she heard them as if they were being whispered into her ear over her shoulder, for a fraction of a second there was hesitation in her movements, she was seriously considering trying to get her staff back and escaping. Whatever was speaking to her was powerful, that was unmistakable, to be able to delve into her mind required great mental and magical power, and when fighting something that has both great mental and magical power you want to be able to face them on at least one of those front if you wanted to stand a chance, she knew that fact when facing Yogg-saron.

For some time she climbed the snaking staircase up into the trees canopy, she could now see more clearly the city that was hidden within the leaves, dozens of buildings ranging in size from simple terraces to buildings spanning from two or three trees. Dozens of people could be seen speaking to one another and making conversation in their native tongue, a language that she found quite similar to Darnassian, but the wording and accent was wrong; it sounded more like Thalassian, which came as another surprise to her. Soon she rose to another tier of the canopy and was given another show of how grand this city was, many large manors dotted this level of the forest, showing that this place was reserved for likely the more elite of this society, and based off the attitude she had witnessed from these rangers, she hoped they were not too arrogant. A few minutes later she was navigating her way through the neighborhood, likely going to the residence of this cities leader, she could see in the distance of a large tower like mansion that could possibly be where the king or lord of this forest resides.

She was proven right as she was standing on a small bridge leading to a small staircase into the mansion, she could make out few details about the manor aside that it was composed of white stone and glowed brightly from the many bulbs that grew on the trees, she could see only partially inside, the lights forcing her to advert her gaze. But from the distance she could tell that this building likely moved up several levels before coming to a stop at the top of the canopy and from its size it could fit a hundred or so people inside with a lot of room to spare. As she waited with the Malledhrim rangers outside the building two figures came down the stairs to greet them, both of them were only shadowy outline in the light, she was unable to see their faces or tell who or what they were, but she could see that they were powerful, one more so than the other. She could feel its flow off from it like a mist from a waterfall, Rosaria felt very uncertain about being here now, without her staff she couldn't use her powers to their full potential, she glanced to the side and saw it in the hands of Lomdognir. She thought about trying to take the staff once more, it wouldn't be difficult to steal it from him, he was close enough that she could disarms him without the other reacting to quickly, she then could jump from the bridge and during free-fall shape shift into an eagle and then fly to safety, the lack of open space could work to her advantage as the only way they could attack is with archers.

'Do not be frightened' the whisper echoed in her mind, she turned back to the two approaching figures who now were starting to come out of the light, she could see one was male and the other was female, by their sides were two elven rangers with bows. 'You are safe here, Rosaria Wildmane'

The druid's eyes widened slightly, who was this voice that pestered her and her thoughts, whoever it was is very powerful indeed, speaking to someone through the mind was difficult, but to read their mind was even harder to do, so who was it that could be doing this, could it be Sara, the manifestation of the old god. But that was impossible, Yogg-saron was dead, so that mean whoever this was they were likely within the city and close by, otherwise they wouldn't be able to speak with her, mind control was easy magic to use, but mind reading was something a bit more difficult. It required the mind reader to break through the user subconscious and delve into their memories and thoughts, which is harder than mind control, as mind control only require the user the manipulate the users mind and force them to perform certain actions or hinder their abilites. Yogg-saron could do such a thing with ease, even the Lich King, but this power was something completely different from them, where they would force their way in, this one seems to be just scraping along the surface and picking up and stray through she comes across.

Rosaria looked up to the two before her, two elves in long white robes stood before her, both with long blonde hair and blue eyes, the male elf had strong features and hard eyes, while the woman was much more gentler, she had a small smile and was visibly happy, but in her eyes Rosaria could feel them boring into her very soul.

"I welcome you to Caras Galadhon, I am Celeborn, Lord of Lothlorien" he said, he had a strong and noble tone, with a slight incline of his head he greeted her, and she then looked to the woman who did the same.

"I am Galadriel, Lady of Lorien" as soon as she spoke, Rosaria recognised it, it was the words that have been echoing in her mind since she took those first steps, now she knew the owner of the voice was the woman before her and the power she felt when she saw her only strengthened that claim. "Come, we have much to discuss"

Galadriel motioned her hand towards the manor and soon she and Celeborn departed back inside, Rosaria was hesitant to move, she didn't know what she was dealing with, it was very powerful, powerful enough to snuff her out if she wished with likely little effort. And with her current state of being and her lack of armaments she would be vulnerable, and if she could read her mind or at least her emotion she knew that any action she took would likely be discovered before it happened, she was in a predicament. Although this Galadriel is powerful and likely very dangerous it was not likely she would cause any harm to her, after all she has made no moves to try and restrain her and her words have been nothing but reassuring and kind, she could go along with this for now and hope for the best. She took in a shallow breath and calmed herself down; they are not her enemies yet, so all she needed to do was make sure she didn't antagonise them and she would be fine, and just in case come up with an escape plan if her hopes for the best don't turn out as she wanted.

'We must speak, follow us, you will not be harmed' As she was thinking the whisper echoed in her thoughts, when she made no move to follow after them it seemed that this Galadriel had caught on to her hesitation, she looked up to see the Lady of the wood looking back at her from the corner of her eye, a small smile on her face. Even though she was being kind and reassuring, it didn't help with the fact that she was being read like and open book and her smile only help to strengthen her weariness about the woman before her, she would need to keep her guard up around her both in body and mind.

The druid took her first step forward and followed after the two elves, she had many things going through her mind at the moment, such as taking in the surroundings and planning out a possible escape route and likely scenarios of how a fight would turn out, she had no idea what to expect from them or if they were in anyway more hospitable than those orcs. And with this Galadriel she didn't know how far her magical experience went and what manner of powers she wielded, nor did she know how skilled the warriors around her were, this was slowly turning into a nightmare for the Arch Druid. As she entered the mansion, she walked through a very wide hall, which led to a large staircase onto another level of the manor; she could see several guards positioned along the walls and with their hands on their bows. New scenarios were playing out in her head on how she could deal with a possible confrontation from both a ranged attack and possible melee, she knew that she would not be able to fight them all off without some help, she would need the aid of nature to fight them on equal terms, but without her staff it was all the more difficult to do.

"Now we wish to know who you are" said Celeborn, he turned to face Rosaria, he looked right into her glowing eyes, his voice brokered no argument, she looked into his and saw that though he was an elf and likely several millennium old he was nowhere near as powerful as the woman beside him.

"My name is Rosaria Wildmane" she replied in a flat tone, though her words were still soft and lovely to anyone's ears. She didn't wish to reveal too much about herself to quickly, after all surprise can be the best weapon when dealing with an unknown adversary and with someone as powerful as this Galadriel you had to be on your toes.

"And what are you?" Celeborn asked again, instead of replying right away Rosaria removed her hood and her mask to show them her face. A mildly surprise expression passed over the two elves faces as she removed mask, they didn't expect to see a young purple skinned woman before them, with long elongated ears and eyebrows, with snow white hair that flowed down her back and over her shoulders. On her face were blue tattoos that resembled claw marks, three lines running vertically from her forehead and over each of her eyes before finishing on her cheeks, they glowed and glittered unnaturally that seemed to only add an odd wild beauty to the woman before them.

"I am a Kaldorei, which means 'Children of the Stars', but in the common tongue, we are referred to as Night Elf" Her statement changed their mild surprise to complete, they had not expected that, true she had the ethereal beauty and elongated ears to pass as an elf but still her appearance was so alien that they thought her something else entirely.

"A Night Elf? I have not heard of your kind" said Celeborn, clearly shocked that he shares a common ancestry with this woman, but where her people came from without his knowledge was a complete mystery to him.

"Just as your ranger stated when we had this discussion back in Mirkwood" she replied with a sigh, it was likely they were thinking she was some sort of off shoot of the elven race from wherever this place was, and from what she could tell it was beginning to look a lot less like Azeroth.

"I would be most interested in knowing more about your people and you if you are willing." Said Galadriel, looking at her with an almost eager smile, she was probably going to probe her about her culture and customs as well as try and discern more about her to determine if she was a possible threat or not and see if she was useful in anyway. Well that was what she would do if she was in her shoes.

"That would depend on if I have any choice in the matter" Rosaria replied flatly, she looked into the eyes of the Lady of Lorien and saw her eye twinkle as she looked at her, before giving a reassuring smile and speaking in a similar manner.

"You are our guest here you have nothing to fear from us" said Galadriel, but her words were not the only ones that reached her ears, those whispers also came to her as Galadriel spoke.

'I can see into your mind, hiding will do you no go-…' the message could be finished, as Galadriel was speaking with Rosaria she was forced from the Druids mind, she looked surprised by the action, then two glowing orbs descended upon her and narrowed dangerously. She could also feel a slight build-up of energy from the Druid, she could feel the wind blow through her home and she could see a faint glow around the tips of her fingers, what was this power she was feeling, it was nothing she had felt before, it was like nature itself was at the this child's beck and call.

"Restrain your abilities, and I shall do the same" She spoke with some bite in her tone, the Lady of Lorien was shocked once more, knowing that someone could block her powers to speak and delve into someone's mind, she had not heard of anyway being so powerful that they could resist the power of her ring. This Kaldorei before her was not just some elf, she was obviously something much more powerful and from the way she held herself and that staff she carried meant that she could use magic.

"As my wife said, you are our guest here, and from what we know you sought us out" said Celeborn, trying to defuse the obviously tense situation that was forming between his wife and their new guest. He could see the Night elven woman glow with power, he would say it was unnatural but the feeling of it made it almost the opposite, he turned to his wife to see she was in deep thought, likely over what must have happened, she must have used her powers to speak with her mind and the Kaldorei was not taking it well.

"That is only the half truth, I am unfamiliar with these lands, and I seem to have made an enemy in Mirkwood, I came here to ask for sanctuary till I am fully recovered and learn of where I am" she said truthfully, taking her eyes off the female elf to look at the male, but her stance was still rigid almost as if she was waiting to attack someone.

"Unfamiliar you say, then where is it you hail from, what is the name of your homeland?" asked Celeborn

"Before I ask you this, I am asked you something: what is the name that you call your World?" inquired Rosaria, Celeborn looked a little confused by the request, she was an elf wasn't she, and how could she not know what the name of their world was?

"The world is known as Arda" he replied simply

"I see" she said, before looking back up to them and answering their questions "I am from a land known as Ashenvale which is situated on mount Hyjal on the continent of Kalimdor, which is located on the world known as Azeroth"

"Is that what you call the world where you reside then?" Celeborn asked, but even if this was an elven clan from the First age it made no sense that he would have never heard of them or they would not have known the name of the world that was given to them by the Valar. She looked at him with a blank stare and did not reply for a moment, even though her eyes glowed and one could not see her pupils or irises they could see that she had the thousand mile stare, meaning she was deep in thought about something.

"Yes, but I believe… that I am no longer on my own world, I think I may have been inadvertantly transported here" she stated bluntly, almost as if this entire situation was big inconvenience rather than a serious problem, the two elves sported very surprised looks at her statement. She couldn't possibly mean that she had come from another world that existed in the darkness between the stars, could she? But that wasn't possible was it, they had never heard of such a thing before, other worlds? They had heard of the afterlife and the underworld but still they were more close to the mortal plane and this world than something that existed out in the darkness between the stars.

"You say you're from another world?" asked Galadriel, she received a nod from the druid "How is that possible?"

"There is only one logical conclusion as to how I was transported to this world." She went on to tell them of her battle with Algalon the Observer, how he was sent to judge their world and see if it was corrupted or not, how they fought against him and how many of them were killed. She left out much of the details regarding the city and her people and focusing on the Observer and his black holes that seemed to have been the cause of her being brought to this world.

"So you say that others were drawn into the portal with you?" asked Galadriel, she knew that those stars had being within and now this confirms it, this means that there are likely seven other powerful creatures roaming this world without guidance or knowledge of where they are.

"Yes, from what I know five other went in before me, but there is no telling if more went through or not" Rosaria replied, she only knew about Joana, Zul'kal, Varro, Sefri, and Adria but there was no telling if anyone else came through of if they ended up on the same world she did.

"There were eight including you" said Galadriel, Rosaria looked up at the elven queen and was surprised by what she said, eight that means two others came through the portal, but who?

"What do you mean?" she semi-yelled at her, she needed to confirm it from her to make sure, if they were here then that means she didn't have to worry about them being stranded on some goddess forsaken demon world.

"When you first arrived here three days ago, there was a large rift in the sky and from it, eight star's fell; each went off in several different directions." clarified Galadriel

"Only five are familiar to me, that means the other two could be anyone" she said in defeat, not knowing who else could have been dragged here along with them, and if there were more then they didn't survive the transition between the worlds.

"Who are they, if you tell us we may be able to help you." Said Galadriel, although Rosaria was resistant to the idea of letting them know who her allies were she had little choice other than to risk asking for their aid.

"Joana Lightlance was the first to fall through the portal, she is human, has long blonde hair, young in her early thirties, she wears blue and silver plated armour, with the symbol of a lion emblazed on the chest plate, she is very noble and will likely be off helping people if she can." Said the Druid, while Galadriel was taking in the information and storing it for later use.

"Then there's Adria Darkweaver, she is a Sin'dorei or a Blood Elf, she appears similar to me but her skin is a normal shade, similar to humans, but her eyes glow a dark fel green, she wears… very upsetting clothing." She said, seeing the strange looks she was being given she elaborated "She many appear evil or dark, but I assure you apart from her clothing she is moderately pure. She also has a long dark staff with a dragon headpiece."

"The third is Sefri Anvilheart, she is a Dwarf, she has auburn hair tied in two buns and she wears long dark blue robes, she should not be too hard to find, her armour also has two pauldrons depicting the faces of two blind folded women."

"Then there is Zul'kal, he is a troll, he…" before she could continue she was stopped by Galadriel

"A troll?" she exclaimed incredulously, Rosaria looked at her expression and saw that these people must have them here as well, and based on what she knew of the Amani and Gurubashi Empires they were anything but kind and merciful. It was likely in this land that the more civilised were at odds with the less, after seeing the orcs from that fortress in Mirkwood she had to guess that there were more than just them they had to deal with, but hopefully the troll didn't land some place where he would be in direct harm, after all the landing was all but pleasant.

"Yes, he is a Shadow Hunter, very highly skilled with a bow, now he is shorter than me, hunched, quite thin, and has blue fur, red braided hair and has two long tusks coming from his mouth, he wears odd armour that looks like insect carapaces, now if you find him do not attack him. The last thing you need is to get some of your men killed; if you approach him calmly he will not attack, just tell him about me and not to worry."

"This troll, how can you trust it, how do we know it will be intelligent enough to understand our words let alone the people who deliver them." That made Rosaria raise her eyebrow, how stupid are their trolls that they couldn't understand basic instruction, I mean Zul'kal was an 'idiot' but not an actual idiot, maybe there was something she was missing here.

"Tell me about your trolls" asked Rosaria

Celeborn went on to tell her about what he knew about them, they were large creatures, some over three metres tall and very bulky and strong, they were not very intelligent and had a severe reaction to light, some would turn to stone. From what they explained they sounded like dire trolls rather than actual trolls, if their entire troll population was made up of creatures such as that then it were unlikely they would have large tribes or villages. When Rosaria was satisfied with the information she knew now why they were a little worried, obviously these hulking brutes were more akin to ogres than trolls, which seemed to have gotten the names mixed up in the long run.

"Don't worry, the only similarities Zul'kal has with your trolls is the unfortunate circumstance of being called the same in regards of their race, Zul'kal is not a bloodthirsty animal, as long as you don't corner him as such and enrage him you will be fine." She replied, earning some relieved but still concerned looks from the two elven leaders, even though they knew that this creature was not the same as their own trolls, creatures that were inhuman were not something they could tolerate easily. For many creatures of the dark were inhuman beast and those who were human were deformed or covered themselves in dark and evil markings and taboos, they just hoped that of all of them he didn't land somewhere near Rivendell, Elrond may not take to kindly to the creature encroaching on his lands.

"And the last?" asked Celeborn, it was then that Rosaria was hesitant to speak, for the way they acted about trolls was understandable, so it was likely as soon as she uttered the words they would scream up a storm.

"Varro Dreadbringer, he is an orc…" she was interrupted as soon as the words left her mouth, just as she predicted.

"Orc!?" said both Galadriel and Celeborn, now this she understood very easily, the orcs she saw at the fortress were but poor imitations of what real orcs were, orcs were not handsome but even they weren't that horrific to look at, and they were nothing short of animals. Even though she worked with Varro in the siege of Ulduar she was quite wary around him, especially when he was around others such as Tyresa and Joana, for even the most subtle of things could set the Death Knight off and lash out at whatever was around him, but even so he was mostly calm and collected, but in battle when the blood was pumping he was uncontrollable.

"Yes he is an orc, and I request if you do find him, do not approach or try to talk with him unless innocent lives are in danger, he is what you would call a walking killing machine, he is very dangerous, if he is found send for me and I will try to talk with him and if that doesn't work I can try to restrain him."

"How dangerous could this orc be?" asked Galadriel, her voice low at the thought of this orc moving through these lands, as a possible ally no less, it sounded completely absurd, after all her people and the orcs have been fighting since the Eldar days.

"He is nine and half feet tall, covered in black plated armor and has the temper of a dragon and the stubbornness of a brick wall, he has long snow white hair and pale green skin with glowing eyes, also he had a fourteen inch long sword that could cut down one of these trees if he so wished it. And for the love of all that is holy do not order him around or let him near anything that resembles a human, he'll either kill the person or punch them for no other reason than they are human." She said putting her hand over her face as she told them this, she knew Varro wouldn't attack a village, he was a warrior who really only fought other warriors, but if he came across a band of warriors or possible an army he would cause untold damage. Her hope was that he landed somewhere remote and isolated so that if he did survive the crash he would be to occupied with healing himself than going around finding something to kill, but if something attacked him he would be out for blood, and when he went to war he left a river of it and many bodies at its banks.

"Anything else?" asked Galadriel

"Yes, he is a Death Knight, which is an undead warrior risen from the grave to fight, he is very powerful and has many dangerous abilities that could lay waste to a small army if he wanted to, don't provoke him, don't antagonise him, don't even look at him."

"Death Knight, wait, does he have an aura of evil and destruction?" said Galadriel, remembering the star that fell into Mordor, if that was the same person then he could be dead or fighting for his life at the moment, tens of thousands of orcs roam those lands and if he is there then he would be fighting not a small army but a massive one.

"Yes, why?"

"I think I know where he is, he landed in Mordor" said Galadriel, her words became venomous as she mentioned the name, obviously it was a place that these people obviously despised, from the looks around the room, and she could see their face wrinkle in revulsion at the mention of the name.

"Mordor, how bad is it if he landed there" she knew Varro could take care of himself, but if he was fighting a horde of trolls or dragons then she would likely have to leave and try and save the poor buffoon before he got himself killed.

"Mordor is a land filled with orcs and goblins, entire armies roam the blasted landscape and there are many foul beasts that roam its lands, it is the most horrid places on this earth." Said Celeborn, his words were low; obviously he thought the orc would not survive in such a place, but Rosaria was not really worried at the moment.

"Are there any dragons there?" asked Rosaria bluntly, Galadriel looked up at her and saw the lack of concern on her face and wonder why she would be so calm about the fate of one of her comrades.

"No…" said Galadriel, she would have asked why? But before she could Rosaria asked another question.

"What about giants of any kind?"

"No, what…" again she was interrupted by another question.

"Elementals beings?" What? What did she mean by elemental beings? Was she talking about Balrogs or possibly creatures that could control the elements, there were a few sorcerers but actual creatures of the elements there were none.

"Elementals, No…"

"Then I see nothing you have to worry about" stated Rosaria in finality, surprising the two of them on her assessment on that since there were no dragons, giants, or elemental beings that the orc would be completely fine within a land crawling with tens if not hundreds of thousands of orcs. "In fact, I almost feel sorry for them."

"Them?" was she actually talking about the orcs of Mordor, was this creature so terrible that an army that could walk across the entirety of Middle Earth and lay waste to everything in its path be no threat to this beast of an orc. "You don't actually think this Varro could survive in such a place alone."

"You really don't understand how dangerous Varro is, he is famous throughout Azeroth for his anger and skill with that sword of his, and also the fact he once killed a dragon singlehandedly" she said, Galadriel looked on and even though killing a dragon was a great feat it had been done before, she couldn't imagine how it was so great… "With his bare hands"

Ah, now she understood. His bare hands? He had killed a dragon singlehandedly with his bare hands, what kind of monster was this?

"Well it's probably good he's there, keeps him away from the innocent, as for the other two, I have no idea who they could be."

"I remember one that fell to the west, it was very powerful, I felt a great fire within and another being as well, it was like there were two people within the star" she said to Rosaria

"Mairne" She said with a small smile, and from what the Lady of the wood said, Ignia was here as well, that's good, it means he has someone who can help keep Varro in line and pacified without problem. "So the High Shaman is here"

"And who is this Mairne?" asked Celeborn

"Mairne Ragetotem and he is a Tauren, which to you would appear as… 'A bull-man'." When she said that, the two of them shared a look with one another, as if they were amused at the prospect, Rosaria didn't like that, even though he was a member of the Horde she held a deep respect for him, as he was a good friend of her companion Tyresa. So when these elves appeared amused about her description of his race she was far from sharing their thoughts, she looked at them for a few moments before they turned back to speak.

"Interesting, is there anything else" asked Celeborn, his tone lighter, showing that he thought the prospect of seeing the creature would be entertaining.

"Yes he is a Shaman, which means he can control the elements with but a wave of his hand, and the second presence you felt was an elemental spirit known as Ignia, if you insult him you would most likely be burnt to ash, for she does not like it when people insult him. Keep that in mind should you meet him, for one wrong slip up and this forest with be burnt to ash" she warned the two elves, who now looked much more serious about the situation now, a being that could control the earth, air, water and fire would be a dangerous adversary, and with a spirit of fire at his side was even worse.

"I understand, but what about the last one?"

"I do not know who it could be, but there were several people who could have fallen through the portal at any point after me, it is likely one of them, which may be problematic, do you have anyone else who can search for them?" ask Rosaria

"Yes, my son in law may be able to help you, he resides on the other side of the mountains, and in fact one of the falling stars landed a few miles north of his homestead, while the others seemed to have travelled further west"

"I advise you send work to him immediately, the people are not a threat no matter their appearance, I will tell you about every single one of them and give you descriptions just make sure to emphasise that they are not to be harmed." She stressed the last part very clearly; after all it seemed that these people didn't trust anything that didn't share a certain human like quality that the other creatures of this land didn't share.

"Of course, if we sent it immediately, it should arrive in two day's hence"

"Alright, let's begin then"

Rosaria went on to tell her about the different members of her group that she remembered were still alive before her unfortunate departure from Azeroth, she would also sadly remember those who didn't survive the battle, it was a shame that they were all gone, so many good warriors and friends lost, but they died not in vain. They had stopped the Old God from breaking free of his bonds and save countless others, she just hoped that they were able to do the same against the Observer, for if they failed then their world may no longer exist and their people and homes were only a memory. For the next half an hour she gave detailed descriptions of the different surviving members of her raid group, from their appearances, their weapons, armour, and names, she left nothing to chance; if these people could help her search for her comrades then she shouldn't take it too lightly. A strange land and with strange beings, she had little choice but to trust them and hope that they were better than her last hosts that invited her into their city, she really didn't want to start a fight and try and steal back her staff and then fly off looking for her friends without know where they could be.

Once that was completed and the letter was sent away she was given a room and sanctuary by the elves of Lorien, even though it was what she was hoping for from them, she was not expecting them to be as one would put it: not very trusting of her, but then again when she planned this out she thought she was still on Azeroth somewhere. She had been brought to a nice room that gave her a splendid view over the forest of Lorien and the stars above, it was a good thing that they didn't know about her shapeshifting abilities otherwise they may not have been so accommodating. But they still had not returned her staff, which she did expect, after all why arm a possibly dangerous sorcerous with a very dangerous weapon, she exhaled tiredly, she really couldn't stand being away from her staff, it was as much a part of her as her own arm. She had it for nearly three thousand years, given to her by her teacher and leader, Remulos the Son of Cenarius, it was a sacred item and the parting of it from her hands was something she did not like, she would never part from it even when she slept it was always by her side.

Sighing as she knew that there was nothing more she could do about it; she looked at the soft bed that was situated in the middle of the room, since she didn't tell them much about herself they didn't realise that she could shape shift into a bird and fly off at a whim. But she couldn't leave without her staff which was somewhere in this city, and without it her power would suffer, so she had to wait this out and hope it went in her favour, she rubbed her sour eyes that had known little sleep in the last few days before looking to the bed. It was a fine queen size bed with soft white sheets and two sets of pillows, she ran her hand over the sink and smiled at the feeling of the soft fabric moving against her fingers, it had been a long while since she slept in an actual bed, or one that was this comfortable, maybe two months last she checked, just before she departed from Dragonblight for the Storm Peaks.

She moved from the bed side and to the small trunk at the end of her bed, she opened it and saw it was empty, which was large enough to fit her armour and then some more, but she wouldn't give these people a chance to steal her equipment while she was sleeping, even if she was a few feet away there was no telling who they would send it to steal it. She pulled out her travel bag from under her side covers, it was a Glacial Bag that she had specifically made for her, and it was magically enchanted to allow a large quantity of items to be placed within as long as it can fit through the opening, which included her armour and staff as well as over a dozen items as she wished. She turned to the guards, who had been conveniently stationed outside her room for her 'protection', to see if they were looking, she didn't want them to know about where she hid her clothing or that she had a magical bag on her that hid all her possessions, it could lead to complications and likely it being confiscated, one piece at a time she removed her armour, she removed her Shoulderguards first before moving onto her bracers and gloves. Then she removed her belt, greaves, tunic, and leggings, in the end she was standing in her silky smooth undergarments with her clothing neatly piled on top of the trunk, she placed her clothing with her bag before moving towards the bed once more. Pulling out the sheets she sat on the side of the bed and then swung herself under the covers and pulled them back over her, she rested her head on the pillow and looked out to the stars, she wasn't familiar with any of the constellations that dotted the skies above.

She truly was on another world, so many thoughts were passing through her mind, so fast that she couldn't even answer one before she was on the next two, it was so frustrating and it kept circling in her mind keeping herself from relaxing and getting some much needed rest. Did the others that fell from the sky survive like she did? How far away from here where they? If they did survive are they safe? How was she going to find them? Did they complete their mission? Did they stop the Observer before he initiated the Alpha Protocol? Can they return back to Azeroth? She dreaded these answers, some more than others, she could be the last of her people, all others wiped from existence by that apathetic observer who cared not for the millions that would be destroyed because of his actions. She hoped that of those that were not pulled through survived long enough to defeat him and stop his plot, for if they didn't then there was likely no world for her to return to, she shook her head and dispelled any such thoughts, she has lived for millennia and is a student of Keeper Remulos. She could not allow thing that were out of her control direct her actions, she needed to focus on the present and the world around her that she could use, if she could find Adria or one of the Mages that could have been brought here, then they could possibly create a portal back to Azeroth.

But for now that was all she could plan, she slowly closed her eyes and willed her mind clear and forced herself to sleep, slowly her vision darkened and then so did her mind, she let out a single breath before her mind went blanks and sleep took her.

Celeborn was standing on his balcony overlooking Lorien; he could see the star illuminating the silver tree tops below, it was always something that gave him some peace of mind and some relief to troubling thoughts. But the thoughts of this night were most disconcerting, when he felt that woman enter city he was shocked by the strength of her power, it felt so surreal, like nature itself had been given mortal form. Whatever this woman was she was powerful, dreadfully so, from what his wife had told him she was able to resist her ability to delve into her mind and speak with her, that was something that was completely unheard of, they had never met anyone that powerful and even if they had: they still didn't have to power to shut out her voice through sheer will alone.

Galadriel stood beside him, her thought mimicking her husbands; she was surprised by the woman that appeared from the skies above; she had many interesting qualities and traits that made her wonder more about her people and her world that she came from. Though Rosaria does not trust them – which may have been due to her part of trying to read her mind – she was confident that in time she could come around, she had sent the message to her son and it would arrive in three days' time, and hopefully they would not have discovered any of the more eccentric of her group during that time, after all this land is falling on dark times, they could easily be excused as servants of the enemy.

"That woman is something else entirely" stated Celeborn, he was leaning against the railing of the balcony and his eyes had a distant look in them as if he was in deep thought rather than looking far into the distance.

"Yes, she was indeed powerful, but how much still remains unanswered" replied Galadriel, it was that reason alone that she was curious about her, for she had never met anyone save for an Istari that could match her finesse in the magical arts. But it wasn't just her magical power that took her attention, but her age, she was definitely ancient, long lived like all elves but she had the life span of an entire age behind her maybe more, and she felt a force on her that was more than just her power but an entity that protected her and gave her strength.

"Tomorrow we can speak with her again, we will also ask the rangers of what they know, but for now we must rest, it has been a long day" finished Celeborn, he turned from the balcony and moved to the bed, he stopped to turn to his beloved wife and offer his hand, she took it and they went to sleep away their troubles.

* * *

**Hope you enjoy the story, and stay tuned for one of my later stories that I will be putting up during my next update.**


	18. Chapter 16: The Five Meetings Part 05

**Hello everybody, I thank you for the lovely support and stuff**

**Now there are few things to let you know, first, I am making another story, which is my third, and guess what it's got warcraft in it, I know I'm a wow guy it's just who I am.**

**Second. I have finished the poll on which arc United against the Legion of Flame will take place in, it will be the Thousand Year Blood War, and I'll be making a few new chapters later on and also rewriting some of the old chapters to improve them.**

**Third. Since I am taking down one poll I am putting up another, it will details about the direction this story is going to take and if I should combine elements of Lord of the Rings: War of the North and Battle for Middle Earth II. So visit my profile and vote on it, and please go there, it's hard enough to try and count your votes when you put them in reviews.**

**Now on with the reviews**

**Sharnorasian Empire: It's good to hear you making another story, I cannot wait to read it, and 63K damn that that big, really can't wait to get into it, she was an inspiration for me to make this story, I can't wait to see what kind of work her and you can create. Also if I am not being too presumptuous could you make a cameo appearance with one of my characters in it?**

**Ultima-Owner: Varro not bored, he angry and when angry he smash thing, go on read about it below.**

**Kiue Jin: That great, a little more of your liking me and you will be up to where I am with how much I like you and your ideas for this story (Example: Wraiths and Sauron are Proto-Liches). Mate I looked at that Last Ring Bearer thing, and though I can say I won't be basing her off that, I will be giving her a bit more character than just the elven queen who smiles and is menacing at the same time. (Keep your enemies close and your friends closer). BTW do you watch Iron Man Adventures or Iron Man Anime?**

**Leapinglemur: She'll give it a thought before going into another's to see what they're doing. She's has always known about them, but nothing more than that there are eight very powerful creatures now within the world.**

**Bondo sheetmetal: You correct, but I won't tell you until you read it.**

**Knolden: Awesome. STOP BUGGING ME! SILENCE, I KILL YOU, YOU GO TO HELL; YOU GO TO HELL AND DIE. (Homage to Achmed the Dead Terrorist and Mr Garrison)**

**99 luffy: I thank you for letting me know, and because of that I am having another poll set up, please visit my profile and vote on it. I had a plan for Varro and now am thinking of changing it a little and adding a bit better story and character profile for him. He's to one dimensional for my tastes; I want to make him better.**

**Syed: alright, from now on you can only submit a review of five hundred words or less, no more alright, I mean dear god man, it is very hard to read this and answer it, feels like I'm back in school again doing an essay.**

**1. She detects it, possible yes, the orc is a magical artefact, wait…. Did you say RAID it up, FUCKING RAID, LFG Andiun Raid, looking for tank, OP Healer here, get rep up with Gondor.**

**2. Dol Guldur is something I am looking in to, I may use it as a setting for my story and a character or two, but nothing is concrete yet, I have only planned out the stories of everyone up until the end of the council of Elrond and the departure of the fellowship. So beyond that it will be very chaotic making up an epic story.**

**3. The Nine are not all in the south, eight are in the North searching for Frodo, they are being led by Khamul the easterling, while the Witch-King of Angmar is overseeing the sacking of Osgiliath.**

**4. I am stilling learning about the battle in the north and the event that happened and trying to create a timeline so that when it do get there I have a clear and cut story that you guys can enjoy, in fact I may speed up and change certain events in order to fit with how I want them to progress.**

**5. Entwives, yeah after the Lord of the Rings Quest chain is done, they could pick up some side quests to earn some money and rep.**

**6. Magic pool, is this the one in Lorien or somewhere else, because there are a lot of magic things.**

**7. The elementals of the earth are steadfast and resolute in their conviction, they will go against those who wronged them, but in the end they won't go out of their way to help the mortals, they may help Mairne in his time of need, but going to war with fleshlings is something they probably wouldn't do. And the Balrog, I believe, is a Miair spirit that was corrupted by Malkor during the war of Wrath, they were the spirits that sided with him in the war and as a result were changed into those beings. **

**8. The Mountains may or may not have elemental spirits within, remember elementals remain on the elemental planes and do not venture out from it; Azeroth is different because those elementals were forced onto the mortal plane by the old gods. But on Arda they remain in their planes as it is their home, leaving it is just something some can do and other cant, elementals are connected to certain places, for example water elemental would be drawn to the anduin and the rivers of Rivendell.**

**9. The dwarves learning Shamanism, sure that can happen, after all the wildhammer clan is a practitioner of Shamanism.**

**10. Mairne will make friends, trust me, and he will get more powerful, especially with a new ability he is working on.**

**11. Magic isn't found in artefacts, it is found in the world itself, arcane energy is natural energies of the world. To describe it in simple terms the two trees could be similar to the well of eternity, but instead of a massive backlash of energy, the magic of those tree were stored in three stones.**

**12. No if I'm right the wraiths rings would be on their persons, so that if their killed they can be reborn, just like Sauron, after he had his ring torn from him he was rent asunder, so if the rings depart their masters then they are torn apart.**

**13. Varro isn't a cowardly rogue, Varro smash Thee**

**14. The rings of power were meant to be used for different things, for example, Narya had to the power to inspire others to resist tyranny, domination and despair, and the weariness of time. Each Ring had a unique ability or quality to it. Nenya has to ability to Preservation, Protection and Concealment from evil, meaning it could hide the user and likely a large area around them from the encroachment of evil beings or corruption, such as that which affected Mirkwood. So depending on the power of the user and what ring he had, he could do almost anything with the ring, so if Varro took it, it would likely only give him one of these abilities.**

**15. Rune-Blades don't really steal swords from a victim, true Frostmourne does but Rune-Blades made for death knights are much more different than that rune blade. They steal the life force of the user rather than their souls, I am willing to bet they could do so as long as the target they kill's soul is not bound to something more powerful. But in truth there is no evidcence that death knight's rune-blades aside from Frostmourne and Shadowmourne can steal souls.**

**16. He could control or tear their souls asunder, rune blades are soul blades, meant to cut down almost any foe and tear their soul and body apart, though maybe not absorb it they can destroy souls. In fact any magical artefact can do this.**

**17. The staff can control and dominate the dead, but remember that it requires not only just a great deal of magical power but also mental discipline to dominate that many souls, it is affectively dominating their will. And if it slips then they would turn on you in an instant.**

**18. She will be helping them, because of the king's condition his lord ship over the land has declined; she will be doing her best to make sure it remains as safe as possible.**

**19. Zul'kal is a good friend of Mairne, he would fight through the molten core alone with him if he had to, and they are that good of friends.**

**20. I don't know about drawing on the spirits just yet, but I'll look into it. and remembered 500 words only for the next chapter, no more. And don't get any funny ideas, you hear me.**

**Fallen Maiar: Well here the update, and good to hear from you, it's been a while since you've reviewed my work.**

**Anyway on with the story.**

* * *

**The Five Meetings (The Wraith Nemesis)**

**Osgiliath**

Hundreds of orc scoured the streets and alleys of the once great city of Gondor, searching for anything to kill, they had arrived three days ago, and fighting and bloodshed had not stopped since then, their duty was to push back the human rangers and infiltrate the lands of Gondor. Their plans had many setbacks; the armies of Gondor had pushed them towards the coast many times and broken a large number of their forces, unable to withstand the steadfast warriors of the Captain of the White Tower or that Dwarven sorceress that accompanies them. At first it had been a battle for attrition, see how long the armies of Gondor could hold out before the orcs finally took the city, but there was a problem with that plan. The orcs needed reinforcement, they had lost thousands in the last few days and now they were being pushed back once more, but this time it was the final push before they would be annihilated, their leader Zlog had created a decoy in order to draw away most of the forces in order for the last few hundred of their force to make it out of the city without resistance.

But they had expected to have more orcs with them, they had heard from some of the recent arrivals that something was happening in Minas Morgul, that there was someone that was fighting against them and butchering his way through the halls of the city of the dead. They say he was towering juggernaut of black steel that cut down trolls and orcs effortlessly and in the dozens; they say his words rung like steel and his tone carried the inevitability of a painful death, but it was his sword that carried out his words, for they say it was a massive chunk of sharpened steel that cut through anything. They say that with every swing two or more orcs would die, and some say in one he could kill an Troll, they said even though it was likely that they would die here they took the chance because they knew deep down they wouldn't survive against him. He was said to have arrived in the Morgul Pass only a day ago and now he was carving his way through Minas Morgul, right after he dispatched all the goblins and orcs in the Tower of Cirith Ungol, they say he asked for only one person and that it was the Witch-King of Angmar.

* * *

_One day ago_

_**Mordor, Cirith Ungol**_

_The two trolls that barred entry into the fortress before him stood little chance, with but a wave of his hand both were ensnared in chains of ice bolted to pillars of frost, they fell to their knees quaking, as the cold overpowered the heated climate that they resided within. Frostbite would have occurred had Varro not dispatched them both with two clean swings of his sword, taking off their bowed heads, he did not even lesson his strides or stop as he performed the execution, like a true master of the blade he could kill with apparent and genuine ease, for he had faced greater foes within the armies of the Lich King. These creatures possess nothing compared to martial prowess or skill, they were brawlers, incompetent brawler, they were the worst, the scourge at least had instinct and usually had something controlling them, to make them at least a minor threat, but these beasts were bred as fodder. The only time they could prove a threat to him is when they were in large numbers, but even then they were easily cut down by a simple swing of his blade, the large ogres were much more enjoyable to fight, their strength and surprising intellect made the fights with them almost entertaining. _

_Still they didn't offer as much entertainment as undead giant or frost wyrm, they were always fun to fight, kept you on your toes and if they hit you you're as good as dead, no matter what you're made of, but there were not giants or dragons here, so he was left with these lot, and even worse he couldn't try to enjoy it. He was here for only one person, the one who wounded him, he couldn't allow that stain on his honour not be left without making sure he who caused it paid with his life, too forget about it was shameful and he couldn't rest until he had the Wraiths head. He had damaged his armour further than it already was and wounded him, which was not really a problem, he didn't really feel it aside from the occasional itch and heartburn, which was odd since that shouldn't be happening._

_His armour was the darkest of black metals, covered in iconography of skulls and bone of human and others left only to the imagination, on his stomach was the depiction of a screaming demonic skull with horns that wrapped around the torso and extended down to his waist and around his waist, where a large belt with the depiction of a frozen skull could be seen. Bone, spikes and skulls adored his entire form, the only place not covered by the horrifying armour was his head, pale green flesh made it known to any who looked upon him that he was a death knight, along with his deep blue glowing eyes. He had long white hair that was tied into a knot, at the top of his head making a pony tail that flowed down his back past his shoulder and the last of his hair moved down the side of his face and draped across the front of his chest piece. On his shoulders were two large shoulder guards that protected the sides of his head as well as a good portion of his upper torso, at the top of the metal piece was the depiction of a skull without a jaw, above it was a metal trim that went down the edge of the pauldron and then curled up into horns. Beneath the skull was a transparent dome that radiated an unnatural blue glow, if one would look closes enough they could souls churning within, and below the skull and the transparent globe was a solid spiked piece of metal that extended over the upper arm. To the trained eye many could see the dents and cracks across the black armour, damaged in the battle against Algalon, the chest piece was dented and cracked along the front, while his arms and legs were in a similar condition, the only thing keeping the armour together was likely the bolts that fastened the armour. _

_He looked down at the single opening in his chest piece, a narrow three inch long incision, he remembered the feeling of the blade piercing his chest and its intent to poison him if it did not pierce his heart, he felt his ire build as he remembered the bastard who had done the deed. That Witch-King, he had blindsided him while that damn burning eye distracted him, a cowards move, a move that he repaid with beating the bastard to a pulp before throwing his broken form off the side of the fucking mountain. An act that sadly he regretted, not because he did it, no, of course not, but the fact that he didn't take into account that the wraith was an undead being and that throwing his hide of the mountain would only give him a chance to escape when he either hit the bottom, or stopped hitting rocks on his way down. Since then he has been busy hunting the damn wraith down, moving across the mountain to what looks like another tower, but it was miles off from where he was and where he was going he kept getting delayed because those insignificant whelps kept getting in his way._

'_Stop or you're a dead man' they said, that was a laugh, and he remembered how they were utterly slaughtered them, torn apart by his powers and his bare hands. 'Run or you're all dead men' he said to them as he cut them down, he delighted in killing them, but that wasn't enough for him. There two types of enjoyment he took part in, fighting and killing, though both come in hand and hand, but they are very different from one another. Fighting against a strong opponent is one of the greatest things a warrior could hope for, the chance to best a powerful foe with skill alone shows that you are not just more powerful than he, but the feeling of fighting for it was enjoyable, it was the thrill of having one's life on the line. And when it is over, and your enemy lay dead at your feet, the feeling of fighting an opponent for dear life and then slaying him is an almost intoxicating feeling, just like at the Nexus, where he defeated Eregos with not just his swords but also his bare hands. The feeling of overpowering that dragon was the greatest moment in his un-life, the power to bring low one of Azeroth's most powerful and then to kill him was something that very few could do. That is the feeling he longs for, to bring low those who thought they stood above you, that is the greatest feeling for a warrior to experience, but that is not what he is claiming here. His kills were brought about to quickly, the orcs and goblins and trolls are nothing for him, they are no different than ghouls, gaunts and abominations, he only enjoyed a fight if the enemy was as least better than him in strength and skill, like the Vrykul and maybe enemy Death Knights._

_This land had nothing that could offer him a challenge, except for one, he had fought him to complete standstill, it was only through a feint that he was able to finally overcome him, it was a good fight, and it was ruined by that damn eye and his foolishness in throwing him off the cliff instead of gutting him then and there. But now he could rectify that mistake, he could sense the creature he was searching for, its spirits energies lingered in the air and he could track by that alone, maybe a few miles away from here, and when he find him he would have another fight and then finish it how it was meant to be finished. He stopped for a moment when he felt his chest suddenly ache, even though he was a death knight and his pain threshold was at levels that would bring even a vrykul to his knees if not dead yet, he felt a dull pain in his chest, which wasn't good. A death Knight could take considerable punishment, in fact losing a limb would only slow down a Death Knight if he had a two handed sword or axe, he would feel it but it would be a momentary pain before he mentally quashed it. But the fact that the pain was persistent meant that it was likely having a serious effect on his body; his hand fell over the opening in his armour, the only place he had been wounded since his arrival here, he knew that it wasn't the machinations of the Old God or that Observer; it had to have been that wraith._

_The sword the wraith stabbed him with, it disintegrated when he pulled it free, maybe it was meant to place small pieces of itself into his body and kill him with a simple cut or stab, that way no matter how insignificant the wound it was still fatal, so if he was mortal he would likely have been on the ground rolling in agony. He growled at that, even though he was a death knight he was still susceptible to magic and curses, he could be brought low if the magic was powerful enough to override the same that brought him back or if it was able to force his body to a state where the magic could no longer keep it animated. This was bad, if he didn't find the bastard soon he would likely die of his wounds, but it was only hurting now, that made no sense, why would he be in pain now after nearly three days of running through this blistering hell hole. There was something more to this; he had to find out what it was, because it was likely if he didn't then that eye's threat may be more than hollow words._

_Varro looked to the fortress at the top of the cleft; at the far end of the fort was a tower of black stone that sat against a rock face, he could smaller wooden platforms around the structure, either for repairs of as makeshift balconies, making it clear that these mongrels were not the ones who built this place. There are three tiers, each set back from the last. The two sides face northeast and southeast, and meet to form a bastion pointing eastward. At the top of the tower was a tall round turret overlooking the pass. A thirty feet high, outer wall surrounds the bottom tier, and forms an overhanging parapet to prevent enemies from climbing over, it was a suitable defence for the area, there was only one way in and the walls couldn't be assaulted by any siege equipment. But sadly Varro was an instrument of death and destruction, you just couldn't stop him, you could hold him off for a little while, but in the end you were better off digging as much of your grave as possible before he put you in it._

* * *

_The orcs and goblins were busy arguing and eating their daily gruel, there had been a lot of activity in the area as of late, the forces of Mordor had been moving towards Minas Morgul to prepare for the attack on Osgiliath and then Gondor. Thousands of orcs had been moving through the Morgul Pass to the lair of the Witch-King, and on that note they saw him only a few hours ago, walking up from the lower pass towards the fort and then moving back towards Minas Morgul. Though his presence wasn't surprising it was how he looked that did, he was beaten and ragged, he looked like he just got into a brawl with the Dark Lord himself and was then thrown of the side of the Barad-Dur and left to limp his way home. But that was several hours ago and nothing interesting had happened since then, although there was word that there was some fighting going on down at Durthang, they kept saying there was some sort of monster down there killing everything, bastards were lucky, they got to do something._

"_Ahhh, this is rubbish, there nothing up here, just rocks and dust!" Gorbag exclaimed, throwing away his disgusting broth, sitting on a fallen column nearby he watched as the goblins and orc fought against one another for some gruel._

"_Better than down on the plateau" said Shagrat, he was the Urak-Hai captain of this fortress, where Gorbag was the mordorian orc captain, since neither of their two species got along they had to have two captains to keep each other in line._

"_Your right about that, hope we get out of here, I'm itching for a fight" said Gorbag, leaning against the pillar and started brooding, how he wished there was someone he could fight, but if he had the power of foresight he would have been running for his god-damn life right now._

"_Hey there's someone at the gate!)" Shouted one of the goblins, turning towards said entrance they saw a single solitary figure there, covered in thick black plates with many skulls and spikes adorning it, and a massive ten foot long sword clamped on his back._

"_More vermin" the creature growled at the orcs and goblins, its voice devoid of emotion and echoed an unnatural way, as if the clashing of steal and the wails of the damned could be heard with every word he spoke. "I'll make this quick, I still need to deal with that Wraith."_

_He pulled his sword from his back with a single hand, the dark metal came into full view and they marvelled at its design and imitating aura that flowed free from the blades runes, there was no way anything short of a troll could wield something so large with but one hand. It appeared as if the blade had been segmented into three separate parts or broken and then reforged, the blade itself was separated in three pieces and connected by two bronze disks, and further held together by leather straps from the hilt to the edge of the furthest disk. Varro held it deftly in his right hand and waited, either for the right moment to attack or for someone to do the honours, and that is exactly what they did, the closest charge the new visitor with their weapons drawn and murderous gleam in their eyes._

_As they drew close the unknown warrior pulled back his sword, just enough for to show he was intending so swing it on a wide arc, but the orcs did not even believe he was powerful enough to swing it and kill them when they got close enough, sadly for them they were wrong. When they were mere inches away from the death knight he attacked, like a blur the sword was swung in a wide arc over his chest at the attacking orcs, they were cut clean in half, cleanly and without and resistance, five were caught in the attack and thirteen body parts hit the ground. But before they all could he swung it again, a upright arc at three orcs on his right, two were cut in half while the third had its arm and most of its head removed from the rest of its body, and in those two swing the Death Knight had not taken a step. And just like his first two swing his next two shared that commonality, not moving from his spot he brought down his sword quickly to perform an upward swing to his left to cut an orc in half from groin to shoulder, then twisting the blade as it rose he swung again at another enemy on his right._

_This was all mechanical for Varro; he could decimate anything in his path, as long as the enemy was weaker than him and had not skill with a weapon he could easily slaughter them with the efficiency befit a master swordsman, hell if he had a two foot long sword he could kill them all. But since he was using a very large weapon, his attacks were much more devastating, it was because of this that he was able to fight more than just a couple of enemies, a small army of scourge would fall to him before they could make it within five of him. He stabbed his sword to the right, impaling a large orc on the end of Armageddon, with a flick of his wrist he shot the sword at a nighty degree angle, throwing off the corpse and into a group of nearby goblins; they crumbled as the body slammed into them. He looked to the fort and saw over a hundred of the beast approaching, they may not be much worth as warriors but they make up for it with sheer numbers, if he wasn't so pressed for time he would have a little fun with them, but sadly he needed to find the Witch-King, his chest was starting to hurt again._

_Around Varro were over a dozen orcs within twenty feet of him, and behind them was well over fifty others, he didn't have time to mercilessly cut them down, they would likely cower away and he would be forced to chase after them, and as stated he didn't have time. It had been ages since he had used his runic powers, not since he defeated Erogos; he never used the Runic Presences much in combat, especially the Blood, he had a curse that would cause untold destruction if he ever released that presence, so he had to keep it under control and make sure the enemy lived long enough for him to enjoy it. He broke free from his thoughts and raised his sword into the air, holding it up for a moment he twisted it into a reverse grip, closing his eyes for a moment he uttered a single word under his breath '__**Frost**__' and at that command the Frost Runes were released. Varro's body became shrouded in an icy cloak that formed crystal across his armour and the surrounding air and ground became as cold as a frozen mountaintop, and when this occurred he slammed his sword into the ground. A set of unseen rune lit up with a blue glow and the blade was enveloped in a blue veil of mist, then another chant was uttered and the runs acted accordingly, '__**Hungering Cold**__' before even the orcs could react to the power that was released from the Death Knight it was already too late._

_The blue mist shot from the blade and everything within thirty feet of the Death Knight stopped dead in its tracks, for a second there was only intense cold and then there were frozen orc sculptures scattered around the Death Knight, remaining in the same positions they did just before they died, to last for as long as their bodies remained frozen. But they would not stay that way for long, of the twenty two orcs that were frozen; seven of them were shattered by the charging orc Death Knight that went to finish off the other rabble in his path, with a swing of Armageddon he killed three more orcs before shooting his hand towards another orc, who fell back and mid-fall froze solid and shattered as soon as he hit the ground. Then with another wide swing he killed two more, and with his bare hand he grabbed hold of a nearby orcs head, which instantly froze from contact with Varro's icy touch, before crushing it between its fingers, leaving only red and black crystals to fall the to the earth._

_He was surrounded again, about two dozen were charging in all directions, he didn't want to use another ice spell, it was too slow and was not effective at taking down large numbers at once, and he planted his sword on the ground and channelled his power into another Presence. '__**Unholy**__' as soon as those words left his mouth a cloak of green and black enveloped his form, all around his the foul energies of evil permeated the air, foul unclean energy seeped into the soil and air, giving death to what was once life and turning pure into tainted. '__**Death and Decay**__' he said, all around him the ground died and rotted, anything it came in contact with slowly decomposed into nothing, stone slowly crumbled, steel rusted and fell apart, and flesh fell away from the bones of any caught within. The orcs who stood within ten yards of the orc felt their feet and shoes slowly rot away into nothing, those who fell over and touched the tainted soul felt their very flesh waist away and rot before turning to dust, their weapons fell away and corroded into nothing._

_Their screams were only heard for a few seconds; before their insides and skin finally disappeared leaving only aged bones, those who did not step into the circle of decay, watched as the bodies of those within rapidly aged and rotted away into nothing. It was a true horrifying sight to behold, to watch as the ravages of time and decay work away at your former comrades, to stand at the edge of death and think helplessly as it soon may expand and claim you, but their horror of death was replaced with another. Varro raised his sword into the air, it aimed itself straight up into the sky, aglow with unholy green light and runes that lit up the entire fortress with a sickly illumination, he channelled foul energy into the blade and with a single utterance he brought true fear into the hearts of all the living that remained._

'_**Army of the Dead**__' he spoke, and from the blade tendrils of shadow shot forth and struck the recently fallen orcs, their bodies nearly completely devoid of flesh and organs, but still some meat and innards remained, and when it struck them their entire form convulse, even without tendons or cartilage they still moved as if in pain._

_It was not until they began to rise from the ground, still shrouded in black energy and their bodies missing many necessary organs and flesh in order for them to live did they realise the significance of the spell that was used, the dead were returning. Around the Death Knight stood fifteen undead warriors, holding the rusted and rotten swords in their hands and what was left of their flesh turned into a deep sickly colour, far worse than what it was in life and from it spewed puss and other foul fluids. They looked to their master, their eyes or eye sockets either devoid of any signs of life aside from a golden glow that showed that they were creatures of unlife who lived for only one thing, to kill and devour the living._

"_Master…. We hunger" those horrifying words made all the orcs shiver, these creatures were not of the realm of the living, they were no longer their own brethren they were something else entirely._

"_Then feast…" said Varro, gesturing his had in a wide sweep, gesturing to the orcs around him, who now were shitting their britches. "Feast on their flesh."_

_The ghouls growled and salivated at the meal to come, even though some had no stomachs to hold their food, or had not a tongue or throat to swallow the juicy meat of their living brethren, they still had the same look in the eye, the need to feed, the need to quench their endless hunger. With a howl they lunched at the living around them, the some leaping into the air like a tiger onto a gazelle, the living tried to fight them off, but even impalement was a temporary solution to dealing with these creatures, even if they were decapitated they would continue their attack. The sounds of steel carving through bone and rotten meat, the cries of the living as their still living flesh was torn apart, the sound of meat being chewed and devoured, that is all that was heard from within the fort, the sound of the dead, ravaging the living._

_Varro watched the sceptical before him; he could see dozens of the creatures try to flee within the fortress interior only to be run down by his ghouls and have chunks of their flesh ripped away from their bodies before they died, slowly and painfully, from their wounds. This wasn't how he did things, he would always be in the thick of it tearing the enemy apart with either his sword or bare hands, using his minions was something he only did when it required him to do something that didn't require fighting. He sighed heavily to himself, he could see that half of the towers population had already been cleansed, no reason to stay around while his ghouls mop up the stragglers, he turned on his heels and made his way to the entrance, to continue his hunt._

_As soon as he exited the gate he released his power on the Unholy Rune, the power and speed it gave him diminished and restricted his overall power, runic magic was far different from normal magic and other methods of energy. For instance, mages channel arcane power through them and shapes it into what they desire with gestures and words, while the Runecaster simply activate the runes by pouring their energy into the patterns formed by the rune, while the process of empowering a rune is similar to spellcasting there is one subtly difference. Where a normal arcane spellcaster such as a mage or warlock channels arcane energy and shapes it through gestures and words, which makes it form to what they wish it to be, this is an act of supreme hubris on their part. For Runecasting use the patterns that are formed by Laylines that exist in the world, since these are naturally occurring patterns created by manifestations of the Well of Eternity's power in the world, the rune-caster need not force the energy to obey him. It flows willingly into the patterns — these are the patterns that the energy itself created, duplicated on a smaller scale than that which is shaped into the land. Because of this Runemaster and Death Knights are very powerful, and depending on their knowledge and skill of empowering and creating runes they are even more powerful, and because they use the energy much more easily they can stem off an affliction that affects all spell casters, Arcane Corruption._

_That is why the Death Knights of the Lich King are so powerful, the runes and magic they use are connected to the lay lines and draw upon then almost directly, making them both the most powerful warriors and sorcerers on Azeroth. But when he used the runes he felt something wrong with them, they were not drawing on the power as effectively as he hoped, they did draw on the arcane energies around him but at a severely diminished level and it was more difficult to use the spells. He had several theories on the cause of this, and from what he knew about his current situation he determined one thing, he was on another world, and there was no way that this was Azeroth, for the runes should channel the energy easily with no problem. But when he activated them he felt the rune not only struggling to take in the energy but also fighting to alter their power and flow in order to use them, which means that using his abilities will cause a severe strain on his body as the backlash of trying to control the arcane energies corrupt his body and his soul._

_Just as the unholy presence wore off and the runes lost their power he felt the effects, Varro swayed and fell to his knees; he felt an intense pain in his chest, the pain no longer centres along his wound, but his entire chest, it ached and throbbed and his heart beat all that harder. Though this was not just the result of him using his runic power, this was the damn poison on that sword, it would seem that the backlash of using his powers was causing his condition to worsen, that was not good, not good at all, if his powers in their current state worsen the condition then he would be forced to restrain them as much as he could. Since both his magic and this poison were having a negative effect on him, it would be best if he restrained his powers as much as possible in order to mediate its progress, but doing that was better said than done, even if it wasn't feeding off the corruption caused by his powers, it was likely whatever dark magic it was would still eat away at him._

_Rising to his feet quickly, stifling a groan and clutching at his chest, he used his sword as a crutched to get to his feet, he stood on slightly shaking legs for a moment before he will the pain to subside, he took in shaky breaths and straightened himself up. Sheer determination and force of will alone made his body move forward, he may be dying right now, but he was still and orc, and when facing death head on, you spit in its eye and fight it at every turn before it does you in, that's what it means to be a warrior of the Horde._

* * *

Present

**Minas Morgul**

The Witch-King sat upon his throne heavily, his body battered and his armour in ruins, he had returned a few hours ago, after fighting to return to his fortress with what was left of his form, he had been utterly annihilated by that creature, thrown around like a rag doll. His sword had been broken and he had survived his attempt to kill and convert him into a wraith after being stabbed with a Morgul Blade, which was impossible, there was no force on this earth that could make one resistant to the powers of that blade, not even when more than one shard had been implanted within their bodies. But he resisted the power easily; he looked down at the blade as if it was nothing but an inconvenience, he likely only got angry because he had been blindsided when he wasn't looking, and that was probably the only reason the Witch-King was still alive at this very moment.

He had never fought against anything like it before, never has there been anyone powerful enough to match him combat and skill with a sword, but this creature he bested him with not just skill, but also strength, he wielded that massive sword as if it was nothing. Only an ogre could hope to wield something like that half-heartedly, but he did so and with only one hand, he was truly a master of the blade and what shocked him even more was the fact he was holding back with his powers. He could sense the power within that orc, he felt it when he was enraged, if he released his full potential at the very beginning, the Witch-King knew he would have been beaten in seconds, true he had not unleash his potential either but still he feared how powerful he truly may be.

"My master" said Gothmog, the Witch-Kings Lieutenant and leader of his armies, he was an ugly orc, and he had a misshapen face and a hideously deformed body, one that would aptly earn him as the "ugliness" of Mordor's orcs. The upper left side of Gothmog's body is swollen and pock-marked from a disease of some sort; his pale, yellow skin may also be a consequence of whatever illness contributed to this deformity.

But Gothmog's intelligence was far above that of the common orc, as why he was spared from being removed from their ranks, he was above all other orcs in regards of intelligence and command, he could easily lead his armies into battle and was competent enough to make sure they did their part.

"Why do you disturbed me" hissed the Witch-King down to his subject, the wraith may value him as a commander, but still he was nothing but a wretched creature that was meant to serve him, and he needed to keep all those below him in line, there was no room or company for those of kindness.

"We are under attack, a large orc had breached the eastern gate, he is killing all the men, we cannot stop him" said Gothmog, if he could have seen the face of the Witch-King if it was still present and not hidden within the shadow realm and swollen and decayed due to time. Gothmog would have noticed the shock face and apprehension that was rolling off of him; this was something he did not want, he barely survived against him back at Durthang. He stood no chance against that creature when he was at full strength, nor would he when he wasn't, the beast must have followed him here, but there would be hundreds if not thousands of orcs barring his path, how could he have gotten past them all so quickly?

* * *

Varro walked down the dimly lit halls of Minas Morgul, its walls alight with a eerie green glow, he could hear the sounds of people whispering and the clang of steel in the distance, as if the halls were haunted by the ghosts of a time long past. But even though there were whispers from the dead, they were overshadowed by the screams of the living as they entered the realm of the dead, dozens of dead bodies lay behind him, and dozens more living bodies stood before him, it was a simple flick of the wrist that turned the former to the latter. Three attacked him head on, two to his left and one to his right, he swung his sword over his chest killing the two on the left, while the third lunged at him from his right hand side, but Varro was prepared. Reaching over his arm he grabbed hold of the orcs head and pulled him over his right arm and slammed the creature into the ground, hard, before delivering a boot to his skull turning the bone and meat into a very foul looking vindaloo. He turned to a troll in heavy armour attacking from ahead of him, a large maul in hand, moving forward quickly he timed out the attack perfectly, the hammer descended toward him and quickly he sidestepped far to the right. With two upward swings of his sword he cut off both of the troll's hands, while also sheathing Armageddon onto his back with his final motion, then Varro grabbed the fallen Maul and swung it into the side of the troll's left knee, shattering it and bringing the beast low with a howl of pain. Varro did a full rotation on his heels while weaving the hammer overhead before delivering the massive maul into the trolls chin, its skull shattered and flesh warped as the hammer made contact, the large spiked face tearing through the trolls skull like it was paper, the troll fell back missing a large portion of its head, Varro spat down on the foe and looked to the bloody maul in the hands.

The weapon he held was surprisingly well made for these brutes, it was a simple rectangular shaped metallic head with one end having a long tipped edge, that was bolted to a thick eight foot long metallic shaft, it was a pristine grey and had little blemish aside from the blood of its latest victim that coated much of the hammer's head. He may keep this; it could make a very useful weapon later on, maybe not as powerful as a Rune-weapon but just as something to help change things up, and if he didn't use his Runeblade his powers would diminish significantly, therefore slowing the poison. There may not be any evidence or proof that it would work, but what's the worse that can happen, nothing any worse compared to right now, he looked up from the weapon to see more approaching, he snarled before hefting the hammer up and taking a single step forward before swinging it towards a small group of foes. Three orcs were caught in the swing; one was impaled on the large spike at the front whole the other two were knocked away by the corpse that was now a permanent decoration on the end of the maul. With another wide swing he killed two more and dislodged in dead passenger, sending them crashing into the nearby wall, stone and bodies broke against each other before crumpling to the ground in heaps, he looked on to another orc. He continued the swing on his previous attack and followed through with it and as he spun around he lifted the hammer high and then brought down from over his shoulder, squashing the unfortunate orc like a pancake, the only thing that was destroyed was its four limbs. He looked up to the hall that was brimming with potential victims, if this was any other day he would have had a smile on his chiselled jaw, but with being poisoned and having to find a cure before you died, well that puts a damper on things. With a grunt he hefted the hammer from the ground and then rested it against his right shoulder, all the while taking in the enemies ahead of him, he was in a moment he would have loved yet he hated it, how he hated that wraith for ruining his fun. He stepped forward and spun a full rotation, while taking his new maul off his shoulder and letting it swing with the rotation, and then as he completed the turn he brought it down from a diagonal arc at an oncoming orc, the beast had to top half of its body pulverised by the blunt side of the maul and rendered into mush when it was caught between the ground and the hard surface of the hammer.

He rushed forward and dragged his hammer behind him, smearing the blood and flesh of the orc beneath against the black stone, then when he was close he pulled his hammer forward, the metal and stone grinded against one another before they separated and the hammer struck flesh. The orc was thrown into the air, and nearly hit the ceiling, and as soon as the first strike was delivering another was being sent, grabbing the hammer with two hands he swung it wide, killing two more. Halting the weapon movement he sent it back the way it came and knocked away three more, their bodies smashing against the walls with every swing he performed, another upward strike, and another two kills. He was a towering juggernaut of death and destruction, every swing brought death and every death was gorier then the last, Varro would carve his way through them all to find him, no matter how many he had to kill nothing would stop him from reaching that damn wraith and making him talk and then making him pay.

"Come dogs, taste the might of the Dreadbringer!" roared Varro, his metallic voice echoing down the halls of Minas Morgul.

* * *

**Minas Morgul, Balcony over the Morgulduin**

The Witch-King looked over the Morgul Veil, a land shrouded in shadow and mist, there was no light in this place and the living feared to tread here, for this was a place of death and this was the city of the dead, he had sent out his armies from this citadel to assault Osgiliath. Not to conquer it but to weaken the defences before they send their full might, once they do this they can finally begin the campaign to rid this world of mortal men and claim it in the name of the Dark Lord. For millennia they have been waiting for the chance to strike back against those who defeated them, for over a thousand years he had to remain powerless and hidden from the world after his master's defeat three thousand years ago, cowering like a sheep to the wolves. But with his masters return they could begin rebuilding their fallen armies and their plans to dominate this Middle Earth, and there were many obstacles in their path that prevented them from carrying it out as they did.

First was the fractured kingdom of Arnor, which had been torn apart by civil war and strife several hundred years prior, and because of this it allowed the Witch-King, who ruled from Angmar for several centuries to build an army to destroy the kingdoms of the North and weaken the race of men. This was the first stepping stone for the forces of Sauron, with the North gone, they would not need to worry about the west rising up against them, for only a few of the Dunedain remained after their kingdoms fall, but they were inconsequential and hardly worth their attention. Then it was time to weaken the last of the realms of Man that took part in the War of the Last Alliance, Gondor slowly began to crumble from the peace and its people became complacent and decadent and with this lord Sauron cast his plan. Making many allies with the easterlings tribes of Rhun, their anger and hatred for Gondor was the key to trick them into attacking the once proud nation of men.

Finally it was time for them to begin their war, already plans are being set in motion, the Easternling's of Rhun soon flocked to his command and when he returned back to Dul Guldur he began his plan to conquer Middle-Earth from that fortress. First he would weaken the Kingdom of Gondor further by using the Easterlings to invade the Northern Lands along the Anduin destroying all the settlements along the river, Gondor would have fallen had it not been for the arrival of the Éothéod, which later became known as the Rohirrim. For the last several centuries Sauron's forces have been keeping the armies of man in constant turmoil and guard, never giving them chance to rebuild their lands and countries to their former glory. Even though Rohan had now become a sizeable force to be reckoned with and the armies of Gondor have held back the might of Sauron for many centuries, yes, they were powerful adversaries and a danger to the dark lord's plans. But that meant nothing in the long run for even the Rohirram and people of Gondor were still only men, and they were easily corrupted and controlled, with the manipulation of one of the Istari they had control of Rohan and its king and with the Palatir, they had control of the Steward of Gondor and the fate of the city.

Now all the plans were set in motion, with one fell swoop they would control the entire land of Middle Earth, for their armies lay not just in Mordor, they lay across all the lands that have felt the shadow of the dark lord and wait for the right time to strike, in the Mountains of Angmar, in the fortress of Dol Guldur, the catacombs of Isengard, and the deserts of Rhun. They all wait for the time to strike and deal the final blow against the people of Middle Earth, the old Alliances are dead and soon they all will fall against the might of Lord Sauron and his army, there was nothing that could stop them or delay their impending victory.

A loud crash sounded behind the Lord of the Naz'gul, turning the Witch-King saw the metal gate leading to this balcony shudder and grind in protest as something struck on the other side, around him stood six Trolls, heavily armoured and armed. He knew the enemy he would be facing, the only chance he had was to use whatever advantage he had, compared to the forces he had within this citadel, these six were just a handful compared to the many he had under his command, but they were all he could muster for the moment. In his hands were two weapons, a new sword that had been stolen from an elven warrior during the Last Alliance, he kept it as a trophy and never thought he would be forced to use it to defend himself, a finely crafted single edged blade, over two metres long it was meant as a two handed weapon but he held it deftly in one hand. In the other was his chained mace, it was the only thing that survived the battle against that beast, aside from his armour and most of his shroud, he looked to the door once more and saw the hinges and metal buckle under the force that it was being put up against.

With one final crash the doors shot open and standing there in his glory was the enemy that had brought him low three days ago, his armour was still in good condition, the only difference was the large amount of gore that covered its once dark grey metal, and the maul he now carried in his hand. Slowly the beast walked through the door, like a lion slowly approaching its prey as not to scare it off, around the balconies edge were the trolls who stood at the ready to fight off whatever this thing was, but they didn't have a clue that he had carved his way through this entire citadel to reach just this one wraith.

"Finally, I found you, you have nowhere else to run now" said Varro, his words carrying on the wind with a metallic vibration in his voice, he gripped his hammer that much tighter ready the charge in and pummel the bastard.

"Thou are powerful, you resist the blade that pierce through thou heart and yet stand before me, what are thou?" said the Witch-King, his words hollow and screeching to the ear.

"I was the greatest of the Lich King's creations; I am the Champion of the Ebon Blade, I am Death Knight Varro Dreadbringer!" bellowed Varro, his words carry across the Morgul Veil and overshadowing the hollow whispers that echoed in the valley.

With those words said Varro charged forward, his hammer held tightly in his grasp, the first troll to try and hinder him was met with the hammer in the side of its knee and then its jaw, which shattered and then shot up into the rest of the beasts head. The next came from the left, stabbing its large halberd forward, Varro ducked under the weapon and rushed toward the troll, and as the troll tried to grab hold of Varro he side stepped to the left before sidestepping back to the right and driving the hammer into the side of the knee. The beast buckled to its knees and twisting on his feet Varro swung the hammer into the troll's chest, shattering the armour and burying the metal spike on the end of the hammer into the beast heart, it fell back and collapsed to the ground dead. Looking over he saw three trolls attack him at once, leaving one to guard the Witch-King near the edge of the balcony; Varro looked at them and saw a large sword, a maul and another spear, nothing he couldn't handle.

He rushed forward his hammer at the ready; the first to attack carried the Maul, he dodged the simple over the head attack and stepped within its guard and shot a quick jab to its stomach that make it lurch forward, that was enough for Varro to plan out his next attack. He turned to the spear troll coming to his right, leaping away from the first troll he dodged the second's spear, its struck the ground where he stood a moment ago, leaping onto the metal pole she rushed up to the spear trolls head and struck it in the side of the face with the blunt edge of his hammer. As it tumbled to the ground Varro used the side of its shoulder as a jump point to leap over and behind the lurching hammer troll, as he flew behind its head he reared back his hammer, and when he was close he swung it hard and fast, the back of the troll's skull exploded outward. He could see blood actually coming out of the front of its head as well, he could also see two small black orbs that fell out with the blood and brain matter, likely its two eyes, and he landed in a crouch with his hammer head planted firmly on the ground beside him. He rose quickly to deflect the incoming sword, he bashed it out of the way and watched as the troll stumbled forward, this allowed Varro to strike it in the back of the leg, forcing it down on one knee; the Troll roared in pain and tried to retaliate. Swinging its sword with one hand back at the orc, but Varro had already countered, he swung his hammer again, striking the trolls arm, shattered the bone within and forcing the troll to drop is weapon, it fell forward and the momentum of the attack forcing it onto its shoulder and then it rolled onto its back trying to find purchase to rise from his posterior.

Varro leaped onto the trolls chest and bringing back his hammer he swung it into the side of the trolls head, tearing away flesh and cracking bone, another strike was delivered, and then another, and another, Varro continued to wail into the beasts head, breaking apart its skull until there was nothing left. For the next twenty second he struck the now tattered mound of flesh and bone, completely unrecognizable from what it was once shaped as, he looked down at his work with little care before turning towards the last Troll in his way. The massive retardation was quaking in its boots and its weapon was giving off an annoying ringing as it vibrated, Varro was standing nearly in front of it when it decided to attack, it raised its large rusted sword up and shot it down at the orc. But Varro had leaped back and away from the attack, he was standing just where the tip of the blade that had pierced the stone, Varro leaped up and ran up its lengths towards the trolls vulnerable head, he lifted up his hammer and when he reached the hilt he swung it at the Trolls gobsmacked face, his hammer descended on its cranium and didn't stop until it reached the base of the neck. The troll fell backwards and as it landed on the ground Varro was standing on the troll's chest, hammer still embedded in the creature's neck like an axe in a tree stump, he jumped off the dead troll and pulled his hammer free before approached the now defenceless wraith.

The Witch-King swung his mace at the Death Knight, Varro brought up his hammer with the head closest to the ground, the mace's chain wrapped around the shaft of Varro's Maul, and then with a hard pull he pulled the weapon and the Witch-King toward him. Moving past and discarding his weapon Varro grabbed hold of the Wraith's gauntlet and then his neck before tossing him over his shoulder and away, the Naz'gul landed a few feet away without his precious mace, he looked up from the ground to see the orc standing there watching from where he tossed him. Varro didn't want to kill him, yet, he needed information on that sword the wraith stabbed him with, it was causing problems and he didn't need any more than he already did, he watched as the Wraith got to its feet and charged him with his sword held in two hands and ready to pierce the orcs heart.

Leaning to the side, the blade scrapped against the dark armour but did no harm, as the sword passed by Varro grabbed one of the Witch-King's arms and drove his knee into his stomach, lurching forward from the impact Varro grabbed hold of the scruff on the wraith's neck and threw him forward. The Witch-King slid across the ground and quickly rose to his hands and knees, but he was knocked to the ground once more by a metal greave to the side, even though he was an incorporeal being, he was bound to the physical world and its physical laws, normal attacks won't kill him but they will injure and wound him severely. Nothing short of having their shrouds destroyed or struck by a mortal wound by any form of weapon will break their connection to the land of the living and force them back into the shadow realm.

"Now, what was that blade you stabbed me with" growled Varro, the Witch-King rose to his feet and swung his sword at the Death Knight, who avoided it easily, before backhanding the wraith away.

"I don't have all day, so tell me before I start tearing things away that I know you can't recover from" Varro walked forward and as the Witch-King raised his sword it was pushed down by an steel boot, and a gauntlet grabbed at his neck, and lifted him up to face each other.

"So, the blade did have an effect, not the least bit surprising, a single shard would have rendered thou incapable of moving from the intense pain, any more and thou would have died, but yet thou still live and fight with no signs of agony." Said the Witch-King

"The Blade what is it? How do you remove it?" demanded Varro, tightening his grip around the wraiths neck, the small shriek escaped its lips before it answered.

"Thou cannot escape the fate that awaits thou, thou will fall into darkness, and be reborn as a shade, thou will serve Sauron, thou will serve me." The Wraith all but cheered, Varro growled and knew he could seek aid from this one beast, he would need to find another to do so, just as he was about to finished the annoying shade off something caught his attention. Turning to the right he saw the spear troll charging towards him, Varro growled as the spear pierced his side and forced him to let go of the wraith, he skidded along the surface of the balcony and eventually stopped near the edge, the troll pushing to knock him off the side. Varro planted his foot against a raised stone and drew Armageddon from his back, with a single downward strike he cut a deep gash from shoulder to hip in the Troll; it fell to the ground dead, leaving the long and heavy spear in the Death Knights side. Grasping the handle he ripped the seven inch long barb from his side and tossed it away, as he groaned and clasped his side he saw a small trickle of black blood pour out of the wound, he grimaced, he wouldn't be able to heal it without using his powers, he could regenerate over time but still it would take a while.

The from his left eye he saw another blur of movement, and the next thing he saw was a chained mace coming in contact with his chest, he reeled back and nearly fell from the balcony, his clawed gauntlet digging into the raised stone at the sides saving him from falling. Then as he tried to lift himself up he felt another sharp pain pass through his chest, the elven sword had pierced his right breast, he looked down at the fine silver weapon and then to the Wraith holding it, with a growl he swung his sword and cut off the offending limb and tear a deep gouge in the shades shoulder. The Wraith reeled back from the strike, losing an arm and suffering from a grievous wound, Varro lifted himself up, but before he could regain his footing the wraith attacked once more, ignoring the wounds dealt to him he struck. But instead of attacking Varro, the Witch-King struck the stone that the Death Knight was grasping, as soon as the mace made contact with the black stone it shattered and Varro had nothing to hold him in place, so he fell from the balcony and toward the world below.

Varro cursed as he fell from the balcony, looking up at the bastard that had escape his wrath yet again by interference from a third party, he made to remove the sword but was knocked from that course when he struck the side of the bridge, stones shattered and his armour groaned, he kept a tight hold of Armageddon. Then he fell into the mist, and then into the waters, as he surfaced he felt his side burn and throat irritate as the polluted stream made him sick and nauseous, he grimaced as his armour made it difficult for him to remain above the surface, and his weapon making it even more difficult. But none the less he grasped his sword tightly to not lose it, all the while fighting against the current that kept trying to pull him under and the horrid murky water that made his wounds burn and his senses dull, he could feel it seeping into his wounds and making not only his skin irritate but also his insides. With some apprehension to the idea he called upon his runic powers, the last thing he remembered before falling beneath the surface of the water and then into the darkness of oblivion was casting the presence of Frost…

* * *

**There you have it, the last chapter in the Five Meetings Arc, hope you enjoyed it, and to let you know I will be returning to Mairne in the next chapter, and also visit my profile to vote on the poll regarding this story. Read and Review please, give me input so that I may improve further.**


	19. Author Announcement

**Author Announcement**

As many of you know my name is Jimmyjamster, short for jim, or jimjam, the oh-so-great-writer Jimmy Julio Julianus Jamster but you can call me Jimmyjamster, no argument.

Now of for why I have posted up this little thing, it is to inform you all of my current status of writing my works. Which Include: Lords of Warcraft, United Against the Legion of Flames, and Transcendence. Each of these stories a still in relatively early development, which brings me to my current points, their development, I have been spoke to by a reviewer who wishes to know a few things about the development of the story, and instead of waiting to answer those question in a later chapter I will give you the details here and now.

**Lords of Warcraft**

1. This story is at a crossroads right now, it can go in all four directions, and based on that it will determine how the story will progress as will the characters. I have created a poll on my Profile to ask you whether or not I should include other materials from the Lord of the Rings Mythos, such as the games Battle for Middle Earth and War of the North. My story has the potential to incorporate these two other and elements of the online game, but I want you opinion, therefor I ask you to go to my home page and vote on whether or not I should bring them into the story.

2. If you decide on War of the North, I can incorporate it into a large part of the story along with the film, this allows me to split up the warcraft characters from one another and allow them to do other things then just follow around the fellowship.

3. If I decide to include the Battle for Middle Earth II then I have potential materials for three or four of the characters, which will allow me to create my own stories for them rather than them just following after everyone else.

**United Against the Legion of Flames**

1. The reason I haven't updated it in a while was to decide what arc it should take place in during the bleach storyline, I eventually decided on the Thousand Year Blood War.

2. Now I am still looking for people to submit OC's for me to put in this story, I have made many right now and it is getting troublesome to keep making more, so I am asking you my fans to help me make up the crew and warriors of the 7th fleet.

**Transcendence**

1. There are a few things I need to clarify with this story so you all can fully understand it. The first thing is the main character: Ichigo Kurosaki, I will say thing now, he will not be godlike in this place, no what's, buts or ifs about it. If this was about him being OP then you would likely grow bored of it quick and say "Yeah, just send him to do a one-man raid on Icecrown Citadel and get all the fat loot and call it a day *Yawn*." That's not happening.

2. He will be arrive during the beginning of world of warcraft, around three to four years after the battle for mount Hyjal, around the same time as when Vanilla Wow started. And for those who didn't know where he landed, it was Dire Maul West, right in the Middle of Immol'atar's Prison.

3. I am open for him to have a pairing in this, I don't care what it is just send it in and I'll weight it up against whatever else others send in and I'll make a poll, personally is thinking of a Death Knight, but what race, no clue. Also no Yoai

4. He will be upgrading his armour during his time here, I am a big fan of all the armour and weapons in the game and I am so going to make him look like a badass.

5. He will be stuck there for a long time; you can't just send him back after two weeks, which sucks. He will remain for years on Azeroth, learning, growing stronger and improving on himself and developing a new personality, he will eventually develop a new way of thinking as he spends time on Azeroth.

6. He may form his own inner circle of friends and allies within the Horde and the Alliance.

7. He will be learning from the people of Azeroth, that means more than just knowing about the land and the people on it, it also means about learning about their classes as well. That will be in another poll, should he learn to be a certain class or a mix up of them all.

8. Ichigo's Inner Hollow will become a problem for him as he grows, especially when he arrives in Pandaria, but that will be later in the story, very later.

9. There you have it this is the outlines for my stories, now I leave it up to you to decide what to do with this information, go with the light my friends.


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